Middlewood
by yvj
Summary: AU KP Western. A young man rides into the peaceful town of Middlewood. On the run from his bloody past he searches for his one chance at happiness. However, Middlewood has secrets of its own.
1. Middlewood 1

A/N Alright bear with me here folks, a western is allot harder to write than I imagined it would be. I'm trying my best at this so I'd like a little feed back on how I'm doing (I'm a little nervous about this experiment)

* * *

Thirteen years ago: 

Two miles from the Oklahoma border, a team of oxen rested in the sun as the two wagons they pulled stood by side. Standing just a few feet away from the wagons, two men stood staring into the outstretched horizon.

"The plan is to head to Middlewood, Colorado. It's probably just a few days away."

"Well James," the second man put out his hand, "this is where we part. Me and the family have our sights set on Texas. We've got some folks down there who need a helping hand."

James smiled and shook the other man's hand. "Well, it was nice to have a companion along. I daresay we went weeks without hearing another human voice before we found you."

"I've got to tell you James, we are much obliged to you and your family. I always believe in doing my own work; but if you didn't happen along with a spare wheel, I don't know…"

James put his hand up. "No need pard, I know it doesn't pay to be too trusting in these parts, but the Possible clan is always willing to give a helping hand."

"Well sir, I owe you." He removed a bag full of coins from his pocket.

James shook his head. "No, I'm no greedy wagon master. Everything me and my family did was out of the goodness of our own heart."

The man laughed out loud. "James, you are something else, the salt of the earth. If you don't mind me being nosey, what do you plan on doing from now on?"

"We've got a ranch waiting for us near Middlewood, a few thousand acres all to ourselves."

The man whistled. "I've heard some ranchers in Texas have over a hundred thousand acres. Can you imagine that? I'd like a ranch of my own, nice piece of land for my family, a place where we can live in peace."

He turned towards the wagon, where he saw his son running back and forth, a smile on his face; a little red headed girl was playfully chasing him around.

"Well those two peacocks are getting along just fine."

"That doesn't surprise me, your boy is the same age as my Kim." James put his hand over his eyes and looked towards the sun. "I guess it's about time we hit the trail. Well Elliot, it's been a pleasure."

"Same here." The two men shook hands again and then called their respective families over to begin the preparations for their departure.

Minutes later the two wagon trails started off in opposite directions. Elliot Stoppable was sitting at the head of the wagon when his son took a seat next to him.

"How's your mother and sister doing?"

"They're fine pa," he answered.

It was then that Elliot Stoppable saw a small necklace hanging from his son's neck, half of an arrowhead with a small thread running through it.

"Ron where did you get tha… did that little gal give it to you?"

Ron nodded

Elliot laughed and rubbed his hand through his son's blond hair. "After a week and a half huh? Me and your ma are going have to keep an eye on you. You're going to be a lady killer when you grow up, can't really blame you though, it's in your blood."

"Pa, where did Kim go?"

"She and her family went off to Middlewood son. Good people those Possibles, they even invited us to their ranch if we ever passed by their way."

"Is it a fun place?"

"Well according to James it is… kept going on about how peaceful it was; a place where a man can settle down with his family. That James Possible is one lucky son of a gun, he's got his chance at happiness, some of us aren't that lucky." He turned to Ron. "Son, a man gets only one chance at true happiness, for him and his family. If he misses out on that then all that's left, is for him to wait until they pile six feet of dirt on him."

Ron blinked in confusion, not really understanding his father's words.

Elliot chuckled. "I'm sorry boy, that might be a little too harsh for your small ears." He sighed. "Lets hope your old man hasn't missed out on his opportunity."

Elliot Stoppable stared forward; it would be a few more hours before his son would say anything more.

XXXXXXXXXX

The Present 1875

The rider came from the south out of the summer haze. He pulled up his reins as soon as he saw the town. His face was hidden from the sun by a round hat with a wide brim; it was old and dirty brown, like the land around him. The tattered vest, gray shirt, and the cowhide chaps over his jeans where all covered with dust and grime.

The rider strode into the town and dismounted at the first hitch rail he could find. He slowly sauntered out onto the boardwalk.

"Well, looks like we've got ourselves a new visitor."

Ron turned to the old man who was whittling a piece of wood as he rocked back and forth on his porch.

Ron greeted him with smile. "Well howdy there pard!"

The old man wiped a bead of sweat from his forehead. "Hot as a whorehouse on nickel night, isn't it stranger?"

Ron approached the porch. "I wouldn't have put it in those words, but I reckon I'd have to agree with you."

"I see, so we've got ourselves a gentleman of the first water coming to town."

"No, I'm not one of those proper types," Ron countered, "it's just that my language isn't as colorful as yours, old timer."

The old man looked Ron over. "I'd have to warn you, the sheriff doesn't take lightly to gun sharks coming to town."

Ron was visibly taken aback. "Gun shark?"

The old man continued to cut into the wood. "Well, you're heeled enough."

Ron looked down at the two ivory handled Colts hanging from the holsters on his gun belt... "Oh those, sometimes I forget I'm carrying them." He looked up. "This is all for decoration. When it comes to real gun slinging, I've got more green in between my ears then earwax."

"Hmmm, so tell me what's the latest news from the outside world?"

"Sorry, but I've never been focused enough to pay attention to things outside of my own head. But if you don't mind I've got some questions for you," Ron climbed up the stairs of the old man's porch, "if you don't mind of course."

"Shoot," he replied, "just watch out for the…"

Suddenly Ron's foot hit a loose floorboard causing him to go tumbling head over heels past the old man through the doors of his house. .

"…floorboard." The old man shrugged and went back to cutting wood.

Ron found himself inside the old man's house lying on his back, a coffee pot rolled across the floor next to his head. He looked up to the ground, his gaze fixed on the figure standing over him. A red headed beauty looked down at him incredulously with fire in her emerald green eyes. She looked back and forth between him and the large coffee stain on her flowered shirt.

"You ignoramus, look what you've done to my clothes," she shouted.

Ron sat upright. "Ig-nor-a-mus," he spelled it out slowly, "does that mean I'm handsome?"

"Ugh!" She shook her head and headed for the door. "Mr. Lunsford I'm sorry, but I've got an important appointment."

"Don't worry about it young-un, you can just skedaddle on out of here."

The girl hurried down the porch and rushed across the boardwalk. From the doorway, Ron watched as she ran across the street. Old Man Lunsford followed Ron's gaze and laughed. "That's Kimberly Ann Possible; her pa owns the Circle C ranch just outside of Middlewood. Fine young lass, goes out of her way to lend everyone a helping hand, some people say she can ride and rope as good as any man.

"You don't say."

"You better keep your thoughts to yourself, she's already spoken for"

Ron turned to the old man his curiosity piqued. "Really, says who?"

"Says a fella by the name of Josh Mankey, they've been sparking together for a couple of weeks now. She's probably on her way to meet him now, must be why she's so angry with you for mussing up her shirt."

Ron turned back to the street. "Hmmm… Possible, the name sounds familiar…" He shook the feeling off. "Just as well I guess. I've seen and learned allot of things in my life, but a female critter is something I'll never understand."

He sighed. "Old man, I mean Mr. Lunsford, do you know if there any job openings in this grand town of yours?"

XXXXXXXXXXXXXX

James Possible was halfway between his ranch house and home when he saw the rider coming from the southeast. He walked quickly to his porch where a Winchester rifle was waiting for him. There had been rumors of rustlers coming near a few miles away from Middlewood. He checked to see if the rifle was loaded; it always paid to be careful.

"That's far enough stranger!" James called out when the rider was in shooting distance.

Ron brought his horse to a halt and put his hand in the air. "I don't mean any harm mister I just want to talk to you."

The door to the kitchen opened and Ann Possible, in an all white dress, bustled out and stepped on the porch. "What's going out here?"

Ron instinctively gave her his best smile a habit he had picked up in his former lifestyle. She smiled back; apparently his smile had the intended effect.

"James, he's just a young boy, he's not a cutthroat rustler."

"You never know Ann."

"Hold on," Ron slowly untied his gun belt and tossed it to the ground, "I just wanted to talk."

"You see, he's a nice boy James. The way you're acting, you'd think the cattle you raise have more manners than you."

Ron stayed in place. "Don't worry ma'am, I understand, these days. There aren't many people you can trust."

"Come on closer. Don't worry, my husband won't shoot you."

"Thank goodness, because that would probably ruin my week."

James lowered his rifle. "Well I'm not going to apologize for being careful. So what's your story?"

"Ron Cooley is my handle and I heard from a crazy old coot back in town that you've got a job opening and it comes with free room and board."

"Yes we do, need a new cowpuncher."

"Cowpuncher? I'm going to be honest with you Mr. Possible but busting my hump knee deep in cow dung doesn't sound to appealing to me."

James laughed. "You know, this isn't the best way to ask for a job."

"You wouldn't happen to have an easier job available."

"Well, I'm going to be honest with you son, I don't cotton much to lay-abouts."

"Fair enough, how do you feel about sit-abouts"

This time Ann Possible laughed. "So where are you from young man?"

"I was born in this territory ma'am but I don't remember much about it. My family and I moved to Texas, but I lost them when I was… younger."

"Goodness gracious… what happened?"

Ron frowned. "I'm sorry ma'am, but I don't want to talk about that, not for the rest of my life."

Three other punchers made their way across the yard. They had just seen Ron ride in and they were curious to his identity. They argued amongst themselves as they walked.

"Dammit, Roger that was the worst meal I've ever had in my life. How in the world a man can make beans taste terrible is beyond me."

"He's right."

"Look here boys, the last thing you want to do is argue with the man cooking your food. Now you can either stand the gaff and eat, or you can cook your own meal."

A smile bloomed on Ron's face. "Mister Possible, I may have an arrangement for you, if the lovely Miss. Possible would allow me into her kitchen. I'll leave my pistols behind."

"Certainly" she said

Ron followed them both into the kitchen.

"I don't want to blow smoke, but I'm the best cook this side of the Mississippi."

Hours later, Kim whistled to herself as she rose up to the hitch rail near her house. She climbed down, just as Ron came out of the house carrying a bucket of water.

"Well look what the cat dragged down in."

She looked at him in confusion. "What are you doing here?"

"Sheathe your claws, am only trying to be sociable…I'm the new cook around here."

"What?"

"Hold on, I know we had a rough start, but I want to make amends."

Kim frowned. "It's your fault that I showed up to my date with stained clothes. I had saved up for months to buy that dress, I've never been so embarrassed in my whole life and…"

Ron bowed. "Miss Possible, I sincerely apologize for messing up your date."

She sighed. "Don't take on so, I'm not usually this angry, I'm just a little tired." She sniffed the air. "What is that… it smells delicious?"

"That smell is a dish called Venison Parmesan over Pasta, and I've added an extra side of sourdough biscuits just for you."

She sniffed the air again. "Well, I am kind of hungry."

"Beautiful!" Ron smiled. "Come on in." He held the door open as she made her up the stairs of the porch.

"You don't need to hold the door open for me," she said.

"I don't, but seeing that I work for your family, I think it would be to my advantage if I kiss up to you."

She stopped and glanced at the guns at his side. "Those are pretty fancy pistols you got there."

"These, they're more of a fashion statement than anything. I couldn't hit Montana with a scattergun."

"Most men out here wouldn't admit that they're carrying a pistol as a fashion statement."

"Lady, most men out here wouldn't admit to bathing at least once a month. That don't make them right."

She laughed. "That doesn't make them right" she corrected.

Ron scratched his head. "Isn't that what I just said?"

"Yes but… I'll explain it later."

XXXXXXXXXXXXX

Kim was an early riser; the fact was she had to be. There was never enough time in the day to do what she had to do. She was dressed before anyone stirred in her house. She made her way down the hall, and out the front door. She took a deep breath of fresh air when she noticed that there were still no lights coming from the bunkhouse windows. She sighed and made her towards it.

Ron shifted under the covers in his bed, adding his own loud snoring to the other seven in the bunkhouse. He had just shifted from his back to his belly when someone poured cold water on his face.

"Gah!" Ron bolted upright.

"Finally, I've been trying to wake you for at least ten minutes," said Kim.

Ron rubbed his eyelids. "Huh, what's going?"

"It's time for you to get to work," she scolded.

"Work, yeah right," he said, half asleep. "What's for breakfast?"

"I should ask you that, you're the cook aren't you?"

"Right, right I'm the cook… wait a minute, the sun isn't even up yet!"

"As the cook, you've got to wake up before everyone else."

"Oh god, I may have bitten of more then I can chew."

"Well I'd like to chew on something right now, if you don't mind."

"All right, all right." Ron threw off the covers, he immediately regretted the decision.

Kim looked down and her face instantly turned beet red. "Oh my god," she exclaimed, and turned around quickly.

_Oh right I sleep in the nude_

He pulled the covers back over his body. "I'm sorry, I picked up some bad habits…"

"No, it's ok… I'll meet you in the kitchen." She rushed out of the bunkhouse.

"Nice move peckerwood," laughed another wrangler from across the room.

"Aw shut up," Ron stated laughter filled the bunkhouse

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

After breakfast, Kim grabbed her horse, saddled up, and headed off towards Middlewood. The town was only an hour and fifteen minutes away by horse, which was perfect for her because she did a lot around town. Besides helping out at the general store, she had a bunch of different other errands to run.

"Hey, hold up!"

She turned her head to see Ron ride up next to her. "What are you doing?"

"Well I wouldn't be much of a gentleman if I let a lady ride off by herself, it can be dangerous out here."

"I can take of myself, I don't need a man to take care off me."

"Really?"

"Contrary to popular opinion, many women can take care of themselves. A man isn't the only thing that can keep a woman happy."

"What about a man with money? I've seen some fillies eyes light up at the sight of a couple of dineros."

She scowled at him.

"But I don't think you're that type of gal," he said quickly

"Are you going to be flapping your gums all the way to Middlewood?"

"That's not very neighborly of you," Ron teased.

"I'm not obliged to chat with you. We're strangers as far as I'm concerned."

"Strangers? After what happened this morning, I'd have to think we're past the stranger point…"

"Stop! Not another word! I don't want to talk about that, not now, not ever!"

Ron stayed silent for a moment as he rode next to her. "So I'm guessing that was the first time you've seen a…"

She turned to him "Yes it was! I'll have you know that I am a lady!" She exclaimed.

"Oh of course… I had no doubt in my mind that you were anything but."

"Good." She brought her gaze forward.

A moment later, she turned around, staring at the brown and white stallion that Ron was riding. "That's a beautiful horse"

"Thanks, he is a beaut."

"What's his name?"

He reflected on her question. "Name? He doesn't really have one; I usually just call him partner."

For a few minutes the only sound that could be heard is that of hooves hitting the earth.

"You know, your mother said she'd hand out the rest of the food, so that I could ride to town early."

"So?" she said without turning around.

"So all that 'I can't let a lady ride off alone' I was just saying that so I could sound more gentlemanly. I'm sorry if that offended you."

"Why would you go out of your way to do that?"

"I'm not sure… I guess I was trying to impress you. Allot of good that did me."

She stayed silent for a moment. "All that soft solder won't get you anywhere. What you and other men need to understand is that you just shouldn't assume that women are defenseless creatures. You'll get along better with me knowing that."

"Does that apply to all men or just the ones not named Josh Mankey," he teased.

Kim blushed and turned around. "You know about that?"

"I have ears don't I? I hear he's been sparking around you for more than a month."

"You've only been here for a night and you've already 'heard' about this?"

"Well it more like I asked around… allot." He coughed. "But I hear that you two are pretty serious."

"All right, we've done all this talking and it's all been about me. Why don't you flap your gums about yourself for awhile?"

"There's not much to know about me. I lost my family at an early age, I drifted around, taking care of myself for a few years and I ended up here."

"That's it, that's all you're going to tell me?"

"You want to know more?"

"There's got to be more to the story than that. I think you're at least obliged to tell me."

"You really want to know?"

"Yes I do"

"Really?"

"YES!"

"All right." Ron took a deep breath and thought about it for a moment then he opened his mouth to speak. "Uh, trust me you don't want to know."

"Oh I can't believe you…"

"Look, I can't tell you up my past because it's really hard for me to talk about it."

She stared at him for a moment. "I guess I can respect that."

"I can't tell you about my past but I can tell you about my future. I'm going to have a huge range with thousands of acres, a whole bunch of workers who will do all the work, a beautiful wife who likes to give back rubs and a pretty cook who can keep a secret."

"Well I declare…" She huffed, flipped the reins and urged her horse to gallop faster.

"Wait," Ron laughed as she pulled away, "I'm sorry, it was just a joke a bad joke. It's another bad habit I picked up on."

She galloped further away. "Alright, you don't like those kinds of jokes… see, I learned something new about you. Now we're not strangers anymore."

Silence

"How about a tour of Middlewood? Is that ok?"

Kim continued to ignore him, as Ron smiled to himself. "I swear the good lord must have dipped into some snake poison when he thought up woman." He removed the colt from his right holster and looked down on the pearl handle, where the name Murdoch was scratched out, and the word scarecrow was written below it.

Ron smiled. "Well Murdoch, they're some interesting people in Middlewood. I wish you were here to see them. I think this might be the place for me"

He twirled the pistol around his finger and in one swift movement placed it back in his holster, and chased after Kim.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

Dallas Texas:

Randy Black Jack Clanton stepped into the backroom and took in the sight.

"HLO cowboy," said the barroom chanteuse who lay propped on the bed in a silky black nightgown. She had brown hair, ruby on her cheeks and an eye patch over her left eye.

"Come over here and solace a poor woman."

Randy smiled, she didn't have as much meat on her but that was no problem. He had a long ride ahead of him; it might be awhile before he saw another woman.

"C'mere honey and nuzzle with me a spell."

He threw off all his clothes. "Lady, I ain't meaning to do any nuzzling."

He walked over to the bed and reached for her; suddenly she grabbed him by the hand and twisted his arm. He howled in pain as she reached under her pillow and pulled out a Smith & Wesson 1870 Model 3 Revolver. Before he could react she clubbed him in the head with its handle.

_Click _

The sound of the hammer of the revolver being pulled back brought Clanton back to reality. He opened his eyes only to realize that she had pinned him to the ground and worse of all, the barrel of her pistol was now in his mouth.

"Alright darling, I've got some questions for you. Now you can answer my questions or I can decorate the floor with pieces of your skull."

She pulled the barrel out of his mouth.

"Ok, I'll tell you anything, just don't kill me," he whimpered.

She smiled. "That's a good cowboy, now tell me everything you know about Rooster Coover."

XXXX

An hour later;

"No doves allowed in this courthouse."

Deputy Marshal Johnson shoved the chanteuse out of the door. He smiled at her. "But if you want to meet up after." He reached for her behind.

She snatched his hand away just as forcefully as she did with Black Jack. "Now I tried to be proper about this in the courthouse, but no one is allowed to grab me there except the late Mister Director."

She pulled him forward and tripped him up with her foot causing him to fall to the ground.

"Why you…" The deputy marshal seethed. He rose up, intending to strike her.

"I wouldn't do that if I were you," a voice called out to him, the deputy twirled around.

A young man stepped out of the shadows of a dark alley, the tin star on his dark vest shone brightly in the sunlight. "You're not playing with any old heifer there, that's the widow Director, the wife of the late great Marshal Barney Director, my mentor."

"What does that mean to me?" Johnson called out. Suddenly he recognized the figure, Deputy Marshal Will Du.

"That means that she got more knowledge of the law and toughness in her one good eye than you've got in your whole body. She's learned more from her husband in a day then you'll learn in a lifetime."

"Where do you get off talking like that? I'm tired of all your guff. If you haven't noticed, you're a deputy marshal just like me! So don't rile me up!"

"Correction," Will replied smugly, "I'm not like you, I'm the best deputy marshal in the state, and just to prove it." Will opened his vest revealing the pistol at his hip "I'll actually let you feel your gun before I draw."

Sweat drops began to appear on Johnson's forehead as he contemplated drawing his gun. After a brief stare down, Johnson spit on the floor and angrily stormed off.

Betty Director made her to Will Du. "You know I could have handled that myself right?"

He shrugged. "I couldn't stand by and watch my mentor's widow get roughed up."

"What if he had drawn?"

"I would have shot him."

She frowned

"In the arm of course, he would have lived…..well, do you have any good news?"

"I sure do, Rooster Coover is dead."

"What? We've been tracking him this long and he's dead! What happened?"

"Don't really know the specifics, but Black Jack Clanton, the scout for Coover's group, said he went back to their hidden camp a month ago to discover that Rooster and six other desperados had been gunned down."

Six? Counting Clanton, weren't there nine members of Rooster's crew?"

"Six dead three missing, Hap Jackson, Seth Beechum and the one who did all the killing, goes by the handle of Scarecrow. Apparently none of them knew his real name."

"How do you know this scarecrow did it?"

"Well, for one thing, according to Clanton he wrote his name next to Coover's corpse."

* * *

Believe it or not that was quite a challenege; I hope you like it. 


	2. Tour

All right let's get this out of the way first

1. I would like to specify the Possible's destination after separating from the Stoppables was the Colorado territory (its statehood had not been established yet)

2. Apparently no respectable cowboy would have pearl handled pistols, pearl becomes slippery when you sweat, ivory does not. Therefore, Ron's pistols have an Ivory handle

3. No such weapon as a Winchester pistol, Winchester only makes rifles.

4. Eleven ranchers for a thousand acre ranch are too much I've shortened it to six.

5. Screwed up Sheriff and Marshal(there's a difference). So let it be known Will Du is a Deputy Marshal.

6. Young women did not usually go on solo dates, and most people did not twirl a loaded pistol. Nevertheless, we can (hopefully)put these last ones aside for entertainment value.

So as you can see I'm making Western purists cringe after just one chapter but as they we carry on. Btw, my watchdog Spectre666 caught all of my mistakes ;)

* * *

Caprock Canyons Texas 

Hap Jackson guided his horse to a familiar looking canyon. He waved his hat in the air sending a signal to the lookout; although Hap couldn't see him, he knew there was a lookout somewhere around. He made his way through a series of mazelike bends, until finally the canyon widened, revealing a small oasis, a hidden stronghold that contained several cabins.

"Well, if it isn't Hap Jackson," someone hollered, as a group of men came out to greet him. Hap nodded to them as he made his way to the corral. The hideout contained no less than thirty, tough looking desperados, hell some might even consider it a small army. But one man in particular caught Hap's eye. He leaned against a tall tree, alone, his hat covering his eye, a Remington at his hip.

Hap was one hundred percent positive that the man he was staring at was Warren Marcellus. Also known as the 'The Collector', Hap felt a chill creep down his spine. It was a well-known fact that Warren Marcellus was a man to be avoided.

An old friend approached Hap, "Alonzo, you old coffee boiler, how's it been?" Hap said as he climbed off his horse.

"It's been a few years Hap, but you've got good timing. Why don't you come and bend an elbow with me and the boys. The whiskey here is as fine as cream gravy."

"Love to Alonzo but I've got some business to attend too."

The door of the main cabin opened and two men slowly filed out. The older of the two wore a giant sombrero covering his iron gray hair; he was dressed like a Mexican vaqueros. To Hap, from up close, he had the face of a distinguished Southern Gentleman. He wondered why such a man would be here dressed as a bandit.

The second man was a gruff looking individual with a bushy black beard, beady eyes, wild black hair, and a scar that ran from his left eye to the corner of his mouth. He looked Hap over for a moment and then he turned and tipped his hat to the older gent. "It was a pleasure doing business with you Major Cole sir"

_Major Cole… _Hap reflected on the name as Major Cole strode past him to his horse. When he climbed on, eighteen other men grabbed their own horses and climbed on. Hap watched curiously, as they rode out together in a tight formation, all of them dressed like bandits.

"And who do I thank for letting in this hill trash?"

Hap turned to face the second man. "Payton, I've got some bad news." He made a move towards the cabin.

"Hold on," said Payton, "I don't let any back-shooting maggots in my establishment."

"Look, I've got news for Tobias."

Payton's face remained cool. "I ain't seen Tobias in five years, he might be six feet under for all I know. Now get on out of here."

"Hold on." Hap grabbed Payton by the shoulders.

Payton immediately whipped out his Peacemaker and placed it on the bridge of Hap's nose. "I'll ask you kindly never to touch me again."

"Payton listen to me," Hap trembled, "his brother's dead."

"What?" Payton lowered his revolver. "Rooster's dead… how did it happen?"

"He was killed along with most of the group."

Payton wiped some sweat from his brow. "Lord God, this is one problem we don't need. At least tell me the feller who beefed him is dead."

Hap shook his head.

"Now that's just rich. All hell's going to break loose, you know that right. After all these years, that fool Rooster has decided now was the time for him to get shot." He rubbed his beard. "We can't let Tobias know about this," he whispered to Hap.

"Uh Payton…"

"Shut up boy I'm thinking."

Payton's train of thoughts was broken when Tobias Coover slammed the wooden door of the cabin behind him. Startled, Payton and Hap spun towards the sound.

Tobias Coover, unlike Payton, was a handsome man. His rugged charm and pleasant demeanor often masked the ruthless cruelty he was known to display. Tobias scratched his auburn hair that was under his pitch-black hat. He then yawned and stretched out his body.

"Mind your own beeswax Tobias, me and Hap here are having a personal conversation."

Tobias took a deep breath and smiled. "I take interest whenever my name is spoken Payton, you know that, now what's the good news."

"Rooster dead," Hap blurted out before Payton could get another word in.

A flicker of surprise could be soon on Tobias's face but he caught it and masked it with a grin. "My brother's dead …was it a lawman?" he asked with a raspy voice.

"Naw, it was one of our own, in our crew. It's Rooster's fault, every time he saw a pisterelo that impressed him, he'd ask em to join, kept going on about building a famous gang like his brother…"

Tobias put his hand up cutting Hap off. "Are you saying my brother died trying to live up to my name? Cuz when you say it like that it sounds like his death was my fault."

"No sir, that's not what I'm saying at all."

Tobias snapped his fingers and almost instantly, someone ran up to him and handed him a silver canteen. Tobias took the canteen and waved the desperado off. "Hap, wasn't I paying you to keep an eye on my brother?" He casually took a sip from the canteen.

"Yes sir, but no offence, you're brother was a dang fool, robbing banks, raiding towns. It was enough for me to keep him from getting hung. Besides, I was out scouting when it happened."

Tobias poured the contents of the canteen down his throat. "The man who killed my brother, is he dead?"

Hap swallowed back the dryness in his throat. "No sir, the kid's name is Scarecrow. I don't know his real name… but I can tell you what he looks like. I would have killed him myself, but he disappeared…"

Tobias put his hand up again. "My brother may have been stupid but I taught him everything he knows about shooting." He licked his lips. "This scarecrow must be good."

"Good... Oh yeah, he's fast, I mean real fast…"

"Is he as fast as me?"

"No boss, no way, no one is faster than you are. Not in this life anyway."

Tobias sighed, and then he stretched out his right hand, the canteen stood on his open palm. "You ever try shooting with your left hand Hap? It's not that hard to learn, if you work at it"

The crowd of men that had gathered behind Hap began to thin out rapidly.

"Here's what's going to happen, when this canteen hits the ground, you're going to draw."

"What? What do you mean?"

"This ain't no church social Hap. Now, I'm going to give you a chance to be famous. If you can kill me."

Hap's hand instinctively inched towards his hip. "Wait Tobias, I don't want to."

Tobias ignored him and dramatically removed his hand from under the canteen, Hap's hand tensed and his pulse quickened as he watched it fall rapidly to the earth.

Clang

Hap clawed for his revolver and drew, a streak of lightning flashed. Tobias's .45 Colt was out of its holster before Hap could level his gun. Moreover, Tobias had done so with his left hand.

Hap Jackson screamed in horror as he clutched his right hand. Red mist spurted out where his thumb and pointer finger used to be.

Tobias face had a look of boredom. He spun the pistol forward a few times than backwards, and then he finally switched it to his right hand. He cocked the hammer and shot Hap in his right foot. Hap toppled over in pain, screaming in agony.

"Now Hap, if you haven't realized it by now, you're still alive because you've seen the face of my brother's killer. So that means I need you…"

"Alright, hold on," cried Payton. "I know what you're thinking Tobias…"

Tobias smirked. "Do you now?"

"Every lawman in Texas has been... are still looking for you Tobias. Now is not the time for you to reappear. We need you to stay here until the time is right, we can't afford you getting caught."

"Are you saying that I can't go avenge my brother?"

"No, I'm asking you for a favor. If it wasn't for me, you'd still be swinging from the gallows in Houston."

Tobias squinted as he stared up at the sky. "So what's the favor?"

"You let me handle this, I'll make sure your brother's killer gets what he's due."

Tobias licked his lips as he contemplated the situation. "Fine, do what you want," he spit on the ground, "but now we're squared." He turned towards Hap, who was squirming on the ground. "What you all standing around for? Somebody help him, he's got vital information." A group of men instantly rushed over to Hap's body.

Payton, signaled for a young boy to come over. "After you squeeze some information of that mudsill Jackson, gather up a group of fellas and light a shuck to the nearest towns. Tell ever outlaw you can find about Rooster's death, do not leave out any details. Let everyone know how fast this Scarecrow really is."

Tobias chuckled to himself as he lit a cigar. "Payton, you are the curliest wolf I've ever known. I'm proud to know ya."

The boy looked at Tobias with a confused look on his face.

Tobias took a drag of the cigar. "Don't give me that stumped look. Think about it, the best and worst thing that can happen to a gunman is that he becomes famous."

XXXXXXXXXXXXX

Kim and Ron entered the town from the north, and angled themselves toward the closest livery barn.

"Ha, I win," Ron said, as he dismounted from the horse.

Kim got off a second after him. "I don't remember agreeing to a race."

"Well, I still got here first."

Kim sighed. "When it comes to understanding you, I am at sea."

Ron smiled. "That's because you haven't gotten to know me… Anyway I'm glad you changed your mind about the tour."

"You are new to town and I've got a moment to spare."

After hitching up their horses, the two of them sauntered onto the boardwalk under the glare of the harsh morning sun.

Kim waved to a short man in thick glasses sweeping up the boardwalk across the street. "Hello Doctor White!" She turned to Ron. "Dr. White is the best doctor in the west, my mother works with him part time as a nurse."

"Good to know that…"

Ron stopped talking when he walked into the barrel chest of a very large man.

"Morning Sheriff," Kim said politely

"Sheriff?" Ron turned to the man and put out his hand. "You must be the big bug in town, Ron's the name…"

The sheriff looked Ron up and down menacingly. "That's Sheriff Barkin to you boy, and since I've never seen your face I'll assume you're new in town. So I won't arrest you for a promiscuous display of fire arms."

"Oh these, well I you know" Ron turned to Kim, "you could have warned me about this," he whispered to her. "Don't worry Sheriff I'll…"

Sheriff Barkin moved closer to Ron until they were face to face. "I've seen hundreds of kids like you carrying fancy hardware without a care in the world. You think that makes you a man. Well it don't!"

"Uh…" Ron whimpered as Barkin back him up against the window of a barbershop and continued. "Don't even think about kicking up a row in this town boy. This is a nice, quite place we have here, and I'd like to keep it that way."

"You and me both," Ron managed to say. "I'm a good egg, I swear sheriff."

Barkin adjusted his white hat so it shielded his eyes. "Good, now do you have any questions?"

"Yes…" Ron nodded to Barkin's peg leg, "what happened to your leg?"

"Alright," Kim said quickly, she grabbed Ron by the arm, "I'm sorry sheriff but we really have to get going."

"Never talk about the leg," she whispered, as she led him away by the arm. "Barkin is very sensitive about his war wound."

"Ok, I get it, just slow down." Ron stopped them short. "What's going on over there?"

Kim turned around to see a group of young girls of all shapes and sizes milling around what looked like a store.

Ron whistled. "A handsome thoroughbred like me should do real well in this town."

Kim rolled her eyes. "Vanity, thy name is man. I guess Mister Rockwaller has received a new shipment."

"Shipment of what?" Ron asked.

"Come along and find out." Ron followed her towards the crowd. Ron tipped his hat and greeted every girl as they made their way to the front of the store.

"Here she comes!" squealed one of the girls.

Ron looked up to see a beautiful brunette step out of the store onto the boardwalk, wearing an elegant dress. "Ladies, I am happy to say that shipment from Paris has arrived safely." She posed, putting an emphasis on her rich cashmere shawl and gloves. "No lady of fashion will be seen in public without these accessories. But always remember, these clothes are only for the most proper and sophisticated ladies," she spotted Kim in the crowd, "they're just rags if worn by any crow bait hussy."

The group of girls as if on cue rushed towards Bonnie to marvel at her clothes. Kim pushed past the crowd and approached Bonnie with her teeth clenched.

"I know you were talking about me. Who are you calling a crow bait hussy?"

Bonnie sneered. "What's the matter sweetie, does the truth hurt?"

"Bonnie, you better hobble your lip or I'll hobble it for you!"

"Listen here Possible, if you think you want trouble, then let fly!"

Ron positioned himself in between them both. "Whoa, there's no reason for you girls to fight like kilkenny cats. There's plenty of Ron to pass around."

Bonnie backed away slightly. "And who is this? Kim, have you finally realized that you aren't good enough for Josh, and hitched yourself to this deadbeat?"

"Deadbeat?" Ron replied but the girls completely ignored him as they inched closer to each other.

"I knew this was all about jealously, it's not my fault that Josh would rather be with a proper lady than a no account blowhard like you."

"Deadbeat? Where did that come from?"

"Lady?" Bonnie scoffed and let her eyes fall on the dust on Kim's skirt. "With the way you act, you're as much of a lady as the devil is a gospel sharp!"

The crowd began to watch in amusement as they came nose to nose.

"Ok," Ron interjected, "although I'm sure a scrap in the middle of the street will prove just how proper you ladies are, I'm sorry to say I'm going have stop this airing of the lungs. We have a tour to finish."

He pulled Kim away and tipped his hat to Bonnie. "Good day."

"Get lost." She turned her nose to him and huffed back into the store.

"I'm tired of all her bosh," Kim said angrily.

Ron looked back towards the store. "Well, I'll say she's easy on the eyes but a little hard on the ears. So I'm guessing this Bonnie's not your favorite person?"

"Hardly," Kim answered.

"Hey Kim!" Someone called out from down the boardwalk; they turned to see a young African American boy standing next to a small stand with a sign reading inventions for sale.

Ron followed Kim to the stand. "Well Wade, coming out with your new inventions?" She quickly winked at him, but Ron managed to catch it.

"Oh yeah, I've got up some great new stuff to show off. Check out this hand powered vacuum cleaner. Unfortunately it turns out that not many people in these parts have rugs."

"So you're an inventor?" Ron remarked as Kim looked the vacuum cleaner over.

"Uh well, seeing that I have a sign reading 'inventions for sale', I'd have to lean towards yes, I am."

Wade turned to Kim. "Oh, and Kim, I may have some interesting things that you might be interested in."

"If I have free time, I may have to take a look at your new inventions, if I have some free time of course."

"Okaaaaaaaaaaaay," Ron said, "this conversation is very um… what's the word I'm looking for?"

"Recondite?" said Kim.

"Abstruse?" said Wade.

Ron scratched his head. "If those words mean odd then I'd have to say yes."

"Wade, this is Ron, he's our new cook. I'm giving him a tour of the town."

"Nice to meet you Ron… Uh oh." Wade turned to something across the street. "Kim, here comes Josh, to the left"

Ron turned to his right. "My left," Wade corrected.

"Alright Kim let's take a look at your… uh, where did she go?" Ron turned to see that she was no longer standing next to him, she was now rushing across the street. Once there, she started to chat with a well-dressed young man.

"She's gone," Wade said. "Don't take it personal, that's how she gets when Josh comes around."

"What kind of cowboy name is Josh?" Ron asked.

"What kind of cowboy name is Ron?" Wade countered.

Ron smiled. "As they say in Spain my friend, touché." He sighed, "Oh well, now I'm guessing this tour is over." The sound of laughter and merrymaking coming from the building behind him brought Ron's attention away from Kim. "The Sunset Saloon," Ron read aloud. "Wade it was nice meeting you but I'm heading inside."

"Hold on, since you're a friend of Kim and all…" Wade grabbed something from his stand. "Here's a freebie; it's a tooth brush. The best kind you'll find in any nation, with horse hair bristles, feels like feathers on your gums."

"Thanks! What does it do?"

"Cleans your mouth and keeps your breath fresh"

Ron looked at it suspiciously. "Hey pard, are you trying to tell me something?"

"Nah, it's called business, once you feel the brush on your teeth you'll come back for more of my inventions."

Ron nodded. "I savvy, later little man." He pushed through the swinging doors of the saloon, which was bustling with activity.

There was a long paneled bar, made of oak or mahogany, he wasn't sure, but it was polished to a shine. Encircling the base of the bar was a brass foot rail with a row of spittoons spaced along the floor next to the bar. Along the ledge, one could find towels hanging so that they could wipe the beer suds from their mustaches.

He saw steer horns, spurs, saddles and nude paintings of a woman hanging behind the bar on the walls. And just like every saloon in the west, there were gambling tables that including such games as three-Card-Monte, faro, and the usually on-going game of poker.

"Lookee here, if it isn't the new eagle in town," said old man Lunsford, who was sitting at the bar. "What brings you here all by your lonesome?"

"Well, someone was giving me a tour of the town but she shined out on me."

Lunsford's eyebrow rose. "Would that someone be a certain red headed thrush?"

Ron nodded "you're right as rain. She's got her cap set on that Josh Mankey."

Lunsford put his arm around him, letting his whiskey breath wash over Ron's face. "If it makes you feel any better, at least you got the mitten early, so you don't get the chance to do anything stupid. Cause you can't hold a candle to that Mankey boy, he's handsome, he's smarter than you, and he's what they call an arteeest."

"You sure have a gift for gab don't you old man. But I'll be the first to admit that I've had no experience with ladies of that caliber." He paused. "Why don't you tell me a little about this town?"

Lunsford took a shot from a glass of whiskey. "What's there to tell, a few families on their way to Oregon accidentally found a vein of silver a few miles from here that assayed at $3000 per ton. So they stuck it rich, and built this here community. Might not look like it, but there are some really big wigs in this town" He took another shot of whiskey.

"I've got to say that was a powerfully interesting story. I thought people told entertaining stories when they're full as a tick."

Lunsford inched closer to Ron. "You want to hear an interesting story? Well, there is a scuttlebutt around town about a mysterious masked stranger who comes out at night and disappears with a puff of smoke. Some people say it's the devil, some people say it's the ghost of lawman who was gunned down by outlaws."

"Really?"

"Yep," he took another shot, "Frank Johnson, who's the assistant blacksmith, well his wife shows up at the gospel mill last month with a black eye, and it wasn't the first time either. Word around town is that the masked stranger shows up at Frank's house in the dead of the night. Knocks em around a bit, tells him that if he beats on his wife again he'd be run out of town."

"Now I have to say old timer _that_ is an interesting story."

"How about a drink?"

Ron waved his hand dismissively. "I'm not much of a drinker."

"Well, I guess you're not much of a cowboy either."

Ron laughed when something caught his attention through the corner of his eye. A bald giant of man marched over to a table and grabbed a woman by the wrist. He attempted to hustle her to the back room.

"Come with me!" he growled.

"Again? I already told you; I don't particularly like the way you treat me. I ain't your dog!"

The clearly drunk man began to drag her by the arm.

"Let me go or so help me I'll scream!"

"There goes Lewis again," Lunsford sighed. "Every time he sets eyes on a pretty gal, he gets a little crazy. The blood rushes away from his head if you get my drift."

Ron got from up from the bar.

"Whatcha doing boy?" The old man asked.

"Probably something stupid" He walked over to the commotion. "Uh, excuse me sir, that's no way to treat a lady."

"What?" The man let go of the woman's arm, and she took the opportunity to escape from the saloon. "Who the hell are you, and why are you butting your nose in where it can be stomped?"

"I'm new in town, grand town by the way, but I just thought you were being a little rough on the gal there."

"Is that's what you thought you sack of pus."

"Now hold on, I don't want to fight. You've had too much to drink and…"

The man's right fist swept from his hip into Ron's jaw, the blow sent Ron crashing to the floor.

XXXXXXXXXXXXX

Kim and Josh casually made their way to Wade's stand. "Josh, I'm sorry about yesterday, some careless person stained my shirt and…."

"Kimberly its fine you already apologized… yesterday."

"Oh right, I did," she said with a nervous laugh. "You have such a good memory."

"Wait a minute," Kim looked around, "Wade what happened to R…"

Before she could finish, Ron came flying through the swinging doors of the saloon and landed hard on his back, kicking up a cloud of dust.

A chorus of laughter filled the saloon as Ron picked himself up and batted the dirt off his body.

Kim went by his side. "Are you ok?"

He massaged his jaw. "That was quite an experience."

"What happened?" Wade asked.

"Some gorilla just picked me up and tossed me out the door." Ron turned to Josh. "Well, you must be Josh Mankey. I'm Ron Cooley; I hear you're quite the artist."

They shook hands. "Ron, the wolf who threw you out, was it a large bald man with a black bandana on his right leg?"

"You know him?"

"Everyone knows him," Josh answered, "that's Lewis Compton, he's a real hardcase, always picking fights. You're lucky he didn't empty his pistol in you."

"Then it's probably best that I stay on his good side." Ron massaged his jaw again and stretched his back. "Thanks for the warning Josh." He turned back toward the saloon.

Kim pulled him back. "Wait, you're not going back in there are you, you'll be murdered."

"If you are, you should at least keep a hand on your pistol, just in case," Josh said.

"Why is everybody nowadays so quick to shoot someone? Personally, I'd like to see as little bloodshed as possible especially, if it's my own. Now, I am going in there and I'll make friends by hook or crook. And the fastest way to make pals is to get everyone drunk."

He walked up to swinging doors. "Barkeep, a round of your best coffin varnish for everyone under this roof."

A celebratory whoop could be heard from the inside the saloon.

After a moment or two, Josh looked at Kim. "Seems like everything is ok. That cook of yours, he's quite the character."

"Yes, that's why I'm worried he'll end up six feet under."

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

Dallas Texas

Deputy Will Du found Marshal Blackthorne sitting on a large brown chair with a glass of bourbon in his hand and a pocket bible on his desk.

"I hear you got into a row with Deputy Johnson."

Will Du stood up straight, his hands crossed behind his back. "It was just a miscommunication."

"Miscommunication, you dared him to draw."

"I didn't dare him to do anything, I gave him the option to draw or not. If he did, then I would have been forced to shoot him, in self-defense of course."

Marshal Blackthorne laughed. "Boy, you've been a flannel-mouthed liar for as long as I could remember." Suddenly the marshal's face turned serious. "So Rooster Coover's dead?"

"Yes sir, Betty Director 'coerced' the information from a former member of Rooster's pack."

"You know who did it?"

"All we have now is the name Scarecrow."

He took a sip of bourbon. "Well, whoever he is, I'd like to shake his hand. Rooster was a real wolf."

"That's what I wanted to talk about sir; I'd like to go find this Scarecrow."

The Marshal raised his narrow face to stare Will in the eyes. "Now why would you do that, as of right now I see this Scarecrow as a godsend"

"Sir, we both know the only reason I was after Rooster was because of the off chance he knew where to find his brother."

"Dead men don't tell secrets boy, you know that."

"Hear me out sir, I am of the opinion that I can still make the best of this."

"How?"

"I'll bet my soul that Rooster's brother will come out of hiding for revenge. Me and the widow Director will use this Scarecrow to flush him out." Will, said enthusiastically.

The marshal sat back in his chair. "Let me refresh your memory. Every lawman in the state has been looking for this man for five years. All we have are rumors that he may or not be dead."

"I…"

Blackthorne interrupted. "Now you're telling me that this man will come out of hiding to avenge his little brother, we don't even have proof that they've even spoken to each other in the last ten years."

"But…"

"When you asked to trail Rooster, I said fine because he was a wanted maniac. But now, I think it's time you moved o…"

"When Tobias was young, a barber in Houston nicked his ear. Tobias returned ten years later and burned the barbershop to the ground" Will replied quickly.

Blackthorne stayed silent.

"He'll come out for revenge, and he'll probably want to do it with his own hands, not for the love of his brother but because of his pride." Will stared into Blacthorne's eyes. "Like I said, I'll bet my soul on it."

The marshal sighed. "You won't let this go?"

"No sir, I'll never let it go, not until Tobias is dead."

"Aright, you're a dammed fool, but I'll give you permission. If you need anything from me just ask, I will get it done. Just remember, if you do find Tobias, he is wanted Dead **_OR_** Alive. There is something called the Law in this nation."

"Thank you sir." Will Du, turned to leave.

"One more thing," Blackthorne said as Will reached the door, "when you bet your soul, you might just lose it."

Will nodded and tipped his hat before leaving the room.

Blackthorne closed his eyes before looking up the ceiling and sighing. "Ah Director, you left a stubborn one in my hands. What am I supposed to do with him?"

XXXXXXXXXXXX

Lewis Compton awoke from his drunken stupor and found himself lying face down one of the poker tables. He picked himself up and wiped the drool off his lip. His head was still spinning when someone brushed past him It was one of the saloon's doves.

He grabbed her by the arm. "Hey how about some service?" he slurred.

She smiled at him. "If you got the money darling, but I don't reckon you do."

"Money?" He checked his pocket. "Darling, I just sold a whole heap of… where is my money?" He stood up and checked his pockets again.

_Nothing_

"Don'tcha remember," the bartender said, "you lost it to all to the blond haired young fellow."

"What?"

"You were drunk."

"I wasn't that drunk."

"No body ever is," the bartender replied, as he started to wipe down the bar.

Compton's mind began to reel when it all started to come back to him now. The boy he was buying rounds for everyone as a sign of friendship. He bought a round and sat in on one of the poker games.

"_**Yahoo," Lewis let out a lusty howl, "that'll teach you greenhorns to play cards with your superiors. I'm up a hundred and the night's still young."**_

_**Ron smiled and placed his cards on the table. "I fold." **_

_**Compton laughed and raked in the pot, as others in the bar cheered him on.**_

"_**Maybe I should throw up the sponge," Ron said. "Barkeep another round of red eye for all my pals." He turned to Lewis. "One more game!" Ron shouted and a cheer went up from their audience. **_

_**Lewis took another shot. "Why not, its easy pickins tonight," he laughed.**_

_**Then… and then…**_

"No!" Lewis shouted as he flipped a table over in a fit of rage.

"He must have cheated me. That no good cheat." Lewis rushed out of the saloon.

It was the dead of the night and the streets were completely deserted, a thick fog had rolled into town. The fact that it was a late night did not matter to Lewis, who was running on a mix of drunkenness and rage, a combination that he was very used to.

Lewis stumbled along the boardwalk. "Where's my hoss," he mumbled, "I'm aiming to get my money back."

Someone whistled in the darkness, and Lewis twirled around in the direction of the sound. From the shadows, his horse appears, but he is not alone. A lone, mysterious figure appeared a few feet away next to his horse and patted it on his nose, then he turned to Lewis.

"Lewis Compton," the figure said in unusually deep voice, "I'm going to say this once and only once. This community is tired of your drunken rampages. You clean yourself up or I'm going to run you out of town."

Lewis was confused, he strained to see the figure's face but he could swear the person was wearing a mask and an unusually large hat. "Are you a lawman? Has anyone complained about me?"

"Some people are too scared to fess up to the sheriff and that's when I come in to stop anyone trying to bring our town up the spout."

"Really?" Lewis scoffed. "You sure like to shoot your mouth off for someone who's not a lawman…" He reached for his pistol.

"I wouldn't do that!" the figure warned.

Lewis hesitated for a moment; he pulled his gun and drew.

_Crack _

The bullwhip created a sonic boom as the cracker exceeded the speed of sound and the whip wrapped itself around Lewis' pistol. Before he could realize what was happening, the pistol had been snatched out of his hand. Lewis watched as the whip circled the air in an arc, and suddenly whipped right back at his skull. The pistol smacked him right on the cheek, knocking him off his feet. Then the figure expertly used the whip to pull the pistol back, far away from Lewis' reach.

"I'm not going to warn you again Lewis."

"You bastard!" Lewis felt the blood running from his busted lip. Now gunless, he removed a bowie knife from his pocket. "I'll teach you….." He rushed at his abuser, with his blade thrust out.

The figure quickly sidestepped the attack and chopped Lewis in the arm, causing him to drop the blade. Lewis threw his punch but the figure ducked under it, that's when he got a glimpse of the Turquoise Lame Mask the stranger was wearing through the corner of his eyes and then there was a brief flash of red

"Ooof"

The figure punched him the stomach, causing him to double over in pain. He fell to his knees, as his gasped for air. The figure picked up his blade and flashed it in front of his face.

"Please no," he cried.

"Clean yourself up or leave town Lewis, I won't tell you again."

The figure tossed the knife down and it embedded in the ground. Then he dropped a large pellet on the ground. It rolled in the dirt for a moment and then it abruptly exploded releasing a puff of white smoke. The foul smelling smoke caused Lewis to cough up violently and collapse to the ground.

He crawled on all fours as the smoke began to dissipate. When it finally cleared, Lewis found himself alone.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

_**Six years ago**_

**_A torrent of rain poured down on the two figures standing alone in the cemetery. Timothy Murdoch stood back and watched the boy shuddered as he held up a gaslight in the front of the graves. Murdoch lifted the silver flask in his right hand to his lips. He took a quick swig but he never took his eyes off the boy standing in front of him. Suddenly, the boy turned around and they stared at each other in complete silence. Unspoken words passed between them just from the gaze._**

**_Murdoch lifted the flask to his lips again, his words slurring "some people think it makes you special if you can kill a man faster than a rattlesnake" he chuckled for a second then turned serious "I can't see how breaking the law is going to solve anything." He instantly felt like the biggest hypocrite in the universe._**

**_He took another swig and took a deep breath. "The first time is the hardest, it was self-defense but I was sick for a week. The second was just as hard as the first but that's when I realized that I was fast, very fast...The fifth and six times you don't feel anything at all; it's as if the gun becomes a part of you, an extension of your arm. By then you start to realize that something inside you is not right. You're different from before, incomplete." _**

_**Ron looked up, the rain washed over his face. "I ain't going be killing for fun."**_

"_**It don't matter boy, murder is murder, killin is killin." **_

"**_What about justice, you are always talking about justice."_**

"_**Justice is one thing, revenge is another. Trust me putting yourself outside the law will only bring trouble."**_

"_**All I know is that I've got to get these men." **_

_**Murdoch looked into the blond boy's eyes, shining deep and determined, illuminated in the darkness by the gas lamp. He lifted his hat brim and looked away.**_

"_**I want to be fast, real fast," the boy said with his eyes on the floor, "all the other stuff after that… I'll manage."**_

**_Murdoch sighed he removed one of his matching colts from his holster and offered it to Ron handle first. "Let me warn you son, this is blood vengeance. It's going to get ugly and dirty. If you're going down this road I hope you are prepared to spend the rest of your life always listening for the click of the hammer, searching for the trail of smoke, aching for the kick of the gun and the smell of the gunpowder. Ain't no running from it boy, someday you might wake up thinking that you do not want any part of it, you just want to forget, but it's never that easy. There's no escape until you're in the bone orchard." _**

_**Ron blinked at the Colt in Murdoch's hand.**_

"_**You ever fire a gun before"**_

"_**Yeah, at some cans. My dad taught me a little, said I might be a natural." **_

_**Murdoch shook his head. "Let's hope to God that you're not."**_

_**Ron grabbed the colt from Murdoch's hand. **_

**_Murdoch turned away from him "word to the wise boy, if you're going to live like a gunman, expect to die like a gunman."_**

**_Without another word, he threw his canteen to the ground and stumbled forward in a drunken dance. _**

**_Ron stared at pistol as the rain continued to beat down on him. He studied it, and he was suddenly overcome with the urge to shoot. He took aim and fired repeatedly into the air. Gray smoke rose from the barrel and curled around his hand like a serpents tongue. The revolver began to morph in his hand taking a snake like form. Ron stood in a trance like state as he watched it slither up his arm. The gun/snake crawled up his shoulder, hissed at him, coiled back, and struck at his neck._**

Ron bolted upright in his bed. He was breathing heavily and his undershirt was drenched with sweat.

_I am in the bunkhouse _

A moment later, he reached under his pillow and felt for his revolver. He had been sleeping with a gun under his pillow for at least four years now.

_Another bad habit, _he thought.

XXXX

Ron took a step outside, finally able to catch his breath. It was a good while until morning time but he could get started on making breakfast. Various thoughts clouded his mind as he stepped through the Possible kitchen doorway.

He stopped when he caught a glimpse of someone's shadow from a candle that someone had left burning inside a glass globe; he reached for his gun in a swift motion but stopped before he could draw.

"Kim?"

She turned around quickly, her face flustered and her clothes were disheveled, as if she had just thrown them on.

"What are you doing up this early?" she asked.

"I couldn't sleep; I thought I could get started on breakfast early. What are you doing up?"

"I was um…looking for my book." She smiled. "I just wanted to get a head start on my reading."

"Hmmm," Ron grabbed a pot and a bag of flour, "thanks for the tour by the way."

She blushed. "Oh, I'm sorry about that, I kind of get lost sometimes when I'm around…"

"It's fine," Ron interrupted, "everything turned out fine… I ran into Levi, the town doomsayer."

Kim took a seat on a wooden chair at the kitchen table. "oh Levi, the town folks have doubts about his mental state."

"I don't have any doubts, I know he's crazy," Ron quipped, as he mixed some water with the flour.

The quip managed to pry a chuckle from Kim.

"I heard about what happened at the saloon. About how you helped that girl."

"Oh that," Ron said passively.

"Why didn't you fight back? You'll lose a lot of face in town if you don't fight; no one respects a cowardly cowboy."

"Really? So what should have done, get him all mad and then have to unload some cartridges in him?" he said, with his back still turned to her.

"No, it didn't have to go that far."

"I'm too lazy to be a fighter; I just don't have the stamina. If it don't seem like it's worth the effort, it probably ain't."

"It's probably not," she corrected. "Well, you don't want everyone thinking you're scared. You have to stand up for yourself or you'll get picked on."

Ron stopped for a moment and thought about it. He turned to her. "My dad used to say 'never mind what people say or do, because the biggest troublemaker you'll ever have to deal with watches you shave his face in the mirror every morning." Ron sighed. "To this day, I have no idea what that means."

They laughed together for a moment, but it was it soon died down to an awkward silence.

Then something else his father had told him popped into his head. "Always be careful around womenfolk. Some woman can read things into a man he never knew was there. See right into his soul."

"So what did happen to your folks?"

Ron's eyes wandered around for something to change the subject. "Hey look, is that your book?" He pointed to a large book on a cupboard.

"Oh right," she grabbed it from the cupboard, "my book."

Ron read the title aloud. "Romeo and Juliet, what's it about?"

"It's about a man and a woman from two feuding families who fall in love."

"You know, I never finished a book in my life."

"What? Didn't you read in school?"

Ron shook his head. "Life kind of got in my way of my schooling. But I can write a little and read a wanted poster. I know the basics, that's about it, enough to survive out here anyway"

There was a moment of silence as Ron began to stir the bowl of fire.

"I can teach you, if you want, to read this book, when I'm free of course."

"I don't want to impose."

"I'd be glad to," she said.

"Thanks, but I've got to warn you, I can't even pay attention to myself for more than a minute."

Another moment of silence passed between them. "Alright, I think I'll go get some more sleep."

"I'll have breakfast waiting," Ron said, as he continued to stir the bowl. "For once in my life Murdoch, I hope you're wrong. Hope to the heavens that you're wrong" he whispered to himself, when he was sure Kim was out of earshot.

* * *

Well there you go hopefully this is not as bad as the other chapter while still maintaining some entertainment value.Smoke pellets are not that hard to make and the technology to make them was around during the Old West. Here isa n uimportant question I'd like to ask. whatis your opinion on cursing. There was plenty of cursing in the Old West. It might offend some people then again that's how some people talked back then, so cursing or no cursing? What do you think? 


	3. The Gunman's Song

A/N Welcome back folks, hopefully this story will continue to hold your interests. Well,according to reader responses, most of you don't dig the cursing so that's fine.

* * *

Five years ago, San Antonio warehouse district 

Denver Joe Riley scrambled through the doors of an empty warehouse; he cautiously glanced over his shoulders as he made his way towards the center of the building. He heaved a large sack of money onto his shoulders when he heard a shot fire. A piece of the wall a few feet away from John's face exploded outward. Joe screamed and clasped his right hand over his clipped ear.

"It's over Joe," yelled Marshal Barney Director as he stepped into Joe's line of sight. Four other deputy Marshals, including Deputy Blackthorne, soon joined him. The last person to join the group was the legendary Sheriff Ken Towers.

"You're the only one in your gang left alive Joe. I ain't got time to play around now; I've got a cup of Arbuckle's waiting for me at home."

Joe looked nervously around the warehouse. "You best to back down sheriff; I ain't going back to jail."

Sheriff Ken fired his shotgun into the air. "Look at me when you talk boy!"

"I said I ain't going back to jail," Joe said again.

Director stepped forward. "Ken, put you gun away, he's unarmed"

He turned to Joe. "It's your first time up, that's only a few years of hard labor. But maybe even less." Director took another step forward until he was a few feet away from Joe. "I know you used to ride with Payton Dawson, now he helped Tobias Coover escape…"

Joe shook his head and smiled. "You ain't listening boss. I ain't back to jail." He lowered his voice so only Director could hear. "Speaking of Tobias, he's got a message for ya. He wishes he was here to plug you himself."

Suddenly a large wagon exploded into the warehouse, bursting through a wall, and running over everything in it's past. Joe Riley rushed away as the room became chocked with dust. A group of men quickly clambered into the warehouse, through the hole in the wall created by the wagon

"It's an ambush!" yelled Director. He pulled out his six-gun and fired, dropping the first man through the hole. Sheriff Towers and the deputies opened fire. Bullets ripped into the crates around them, sending pieces of wood flying everywhere. More men rushed into the warehouse, Director watched helplessly as three of his four deputies were unmercifully cut down in hail of bullets.

"_Lord Jesus." _

He winced in pain when a bullet grazed his shoulder as he reloaded.

"Barney! Look out!" someone screamed.

He spun around quickly, his gun cocked, and turned to see another outlaw fire at him from a few feet away. He braced himself for the blow when Blackthorne dove in front of him. The bullet struck him in the chest and he dropped to the floor like a stone.

"Blackthorne!" he screamed, but he didn't have time to worry. The outlaw aimed at him again, and Director coolly nailed him head. In a fit of rage, he hit another in the leg dropping him to the ground, and one more in the right arm.

A moment later except from the occasional moans and groans, the warehouse had become relatively quiet. Director stood alone as he reloaded his gun. "Blackthorne" he said, through his heavy breathing. He looked around the room. "Towers, are you ok! Where are you?"

"Director!" someone said from behind him.

He turned quickly his finger on the trigger, but before he could pull the trigger, a string of shots rang out. The first shot hit him in the right shoulder; the second hit his left leg. He leveled his gun to fire, but another shot to the chest knocked him to the ground.

His assailant slowly walked over to his body. "Marshal Director," he said, as he pushed away Director's gun with his boot.

Director strained to lift his head up, blood running from his chest wound to the floor. "Warren Marcellus," he said.

"I respect you Director, I hope you know that, but messing with Tobias Coover and Payton Dawson… that's a death wish."

Director gathered his failing strength so he could reach into his vest; using his bloodied hand, he removed a photograph from his pocket. He put it over his face and stared at the picture of his family one last time before his hand was too weak to hold up the picture.

"You ready now?"

"Yes." Director watched as Marcellus aimed his revolver at his forehead and fired.

Marcellus kneeled before the body and using his fingers, he closed Director's eyes. Then he snatched up the U.S Marshal badge from Director's vest, once again living up to his name as "The Collector."

XXXXX

One week later:

Betty Director watched as her adopted son struggled mightily to pull a wagon full of seeds, and farming equipment.

"I think I'll have you plant some corn this year. We'll see how good of a farmer you are."

Will gave her a hard stare.

"Now don't get all red faced with me. You don't have any say in the matter."

"Oh yes I do," he said arrogantly. "I don't intend to be no farmer."

She smiled. "Oh really, so what do you plan on doing?"

"I'm going to be a marshal, just like Barney. He has been teaching me about the law. Heck, I bet the President himself will elect me Marshal of everything this side of the Mississippi."

"Marshal huh, it takes more than knowledge about the law to be a Marshal."

"Like what? Bravery, dedication, skill with a gun, I've got all of that. You'll see I'll have the President breaking down the door to make me a Marshal."

"Ha," she laughed, "you don't know more about being a Marshal than the man in the moon."

"Well I know that you're wrong about me being a farmer," he huffed. The sound of horses approaching their house interrupted their argument.

"Looks like we have some company," she said, before turning to Will. "Now you start working with the hoe while I see to our guests."

"Hoe? Didn't you hear me? I am going be an officer. No famous Marshal ever used a hoe."

"Boy," she said, as she walked away, "I'll marshal you up good if you don't get to work. You've been asking for me to clean your plow for awhile now and I've been meaning to do it."

Will grumbled as he began to unload the wagon. A few minutes later, he heard a loud crash coming from the kitchen. Will rushed to the house and into the kitchen. The first thing he spotted was the broken dishes on the ground. The second was Deputy Marshal Blackthorne, standing besides a group of officers, a sling on his arm.

Betty Director fell to her knees, weeping in a way Will had never seen her do before.

"What's going on?" he asked.

Blackthorne turned to him. "Son, let's step outside and talk."

XXX

Present Day

Will sighed as he stared out of the window of the stagecoach. The sound of hooves on cobblestones had awoken him from his daydream.

"Penny for your thoughts?"

He looked at Betty Director who sat directly across from him "I'm not thinking about anything in particular… So what do we know about this Seth Beechum?"

"Well, according to Black Jack, if anyone knows about this Scarecrow it'll be him. They were allegedly two peas in a pod."

"Hmmm," Will replied.

"We're getting closer Will, you can feel it right?"

Will nodded. "Yeah… I never asked what you are going to do when this is all over?"

"I guess I'll go back home. Live life like a widow should."

He shook his head. "You know I'd never let…"

She smiled as she cut him off. "I wouldn't want to impose on the career of the number one Marshal in the West."

"You mean the number one Marshal in these United States."

"I stand corrected. So Mr. Marshal, which one of the girls you been courting do you plan to marry? You can't be a bachelor forever you know."

Will blushed. "I wasn't courting anybody and I don't plan on marrying anytime soon. Plus, I don't see how it's any of your business anyhow."

"Maybe you haven't found the right girl yet. Mrs. Clavell's daughter is pretty as a picture, maybe you two can chat."

Will groaned. "Why is it so hard to talk to you?"

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

Two weeks later Circle C ranch

The sound of a gun going off deep in his mind jolted Ron from a deep sleep. "Huh, what happened?"

Kim looked up from her book. "Don't tell me you fell asleep again."

"No, of course I didn't"

"All right, what was the last thing I said?"

He stared at her with a blank look on his face. "Alright, I'm going to be honest with you, I may have dozed off for a second. But only for just a second, to rest my eyes."

"What did I say before that?"

He blinked at her in confusion. "Alright, I'm going to be doubly honest with you, I may have possibly fallen asleep."

"Ugh you're impossible."

"What? How can you blame me for falling asleep?" He grabbed the book from her and read 'From forth the fatal loins of these two foes. A pair of star-crossed lovers takes their life. What does that even mean?"

"It means the two unlucky children of these enemy families become lovers and commit suicide."

"Why doesn't it just say that, is this even English?"

"It's Old English; this book was published in 1623."

"It's 1875! I think that's enough time for someone to write it down in a way that makes sense."

She yanked the book back. "It makes perfect sense the way it is. All real gentlemen know how to read Shakespeare. It's a mark of sophistication."

Ron lay back down on his back, taking advantage of the shade from the Oak tree they were sitting under. "Sophistication huh? As long as I know to always drink upstream from a herd, I think I can get by in the world."

"You're incorrigible."

"Flattery won't get you too far with me, but it's a start," Ron replied.

"That wasn't a compliment."

Ron tapped his forehead. "Up here it is, and that's all that matters… Alright, I'll give in, lay some more of that shake a spear on me."

"Shakespeare," she corrected, "at least get the name right. 'O Romeo, Romeo, wherefore art thou Romeo? Deny thy father and refuse thy name, Or if thou wilt not, be but sworn my love, and I'll no longer be a Capulet."

"That sounds pretty nice. If I had an idea of what it meant, I might be moved."

"She's asking him to deny his family for her love. However, if he won't, she is willing to deny her family in order to be with him if he merely tells her that he loves her.

Ron stayed silent for a moment. "Well I'll be, I'm actually moved."

XXXX

"It is the east, and Juliet is the moon… no that's not right," Ron thought, as he strolled towards the Possible homestead. "Juliet is the um… wind… no, it was something about the sky, the clouds no… the sun! Juliet is the sun, yeah, I think that's right… why would anyone want to be the sun?"

With themes, motifs, and symbols bouncing around in his head, Ron stepped onto the Possible porch, just as James Possible stepped out. "Are you feeling all right Ron?"

Ron shook his head. "I've been better sir; your daughter has spent all morning trying to fill my head with knowledge."

"So do you feel any smarter?"

"Let me put it this way, at the rate I'm going I'll be halfway smart by the time I'm ninety."

James laughed.

"Can I ask you something sir?"

"Shoot"

"How'd she get so smart?"

"Well, Kim's a hard worker. She tries to be the best at anything she can get her hand on and that includes her education. In addition, I don't want to sound like a blowhard but smarts seem to come natural to the Possible clan. My father was an advisor for President Taylor; my parents actually spent a few years in China as diplomats. Moreover, Anne's father was a famous doctor in the war with Mexico, saved plenty of lives with his medical knowledge. Heck, even the twins seem to be too smart for their own good."

"Twins?"

"You haven't met them yet, my boys Jim and Tim, they went off to a famous school in Denver. Probably learning new ways to cause trouble," he chuckled.

"Why didn't Kim go to school with them?"

"Unfortunately, the school only admits exceptionally intelligent young **boys**."

"Oh," Ron said, as he spied several riders approaching from the south. James used his hand as a visor and stared out towards the riders. "Well, if it isn't Chick Moore and his boys," he exclaimed. "I haven't seen him in ages."

"James!" said Chick when he was only a few feet away. "I was hoping I'd catch you here."

Chick reined up his horse and swung off. "Lookie here neighbor, I've got something important to discuss with you." Chick was a heavyset man with a pleasant face; it wasn't hard to spot the large dimples on his cheeks.

"Sure, come on in I'll wrangle us up a pot of coffee. Anne, we've got some visitors!"

"I'll go help Miss Possible with the coffee," Ron stated as he headed into the kitchen.

Chick and James sat down at the kitchen table as Anne handed both of them a cup of coffee. Ron stood at the edge of the kitchen doorway trying his best not to hear their conversation, but was failing to do so.

Chick started with some small talk but James could see right through it "Chick, how about you stop scratching the dirt and tell me why you're here?" Chick sighed and went on to talk about his missing cattle.

James was surprised. "Rustlers around here?"

"Yep, and I'm of the opinion that Avery Bronson and his new cowhands are involved."

A look of shock came over James' face, this news hit him hard. There were three ranches around Middlewood, the Possible's Circle C ranch, Chick's Bar B ranch and Avery Bronson's El Coyote ranch. They all considered each other neighbors but Avery happened to be a close friend of his.

"He couldn't be."

"It's no secret that Avery's fallen on hard times," said Chick, with a serious look on his face.

"Do you have any proof?"

"Not now, I'm just running on suspicions. But if I do… you know what has to happen right?"

James took a sip of his coffee and nodded.

Chick got up from his seat. "I'd keep an extra eye on my cattle heads if I was you."

"Thanks for the warning," James said as he got up to shake Chick's hand.

Chick grabbed James' hand, pulled him close and looked James in the eye. "I know he's a good friend of yours, but if it's true, I want you and your boys to ride with me."

James nodded silently, and then he watched as Chick exited the kitchen and listened to him and his boys ride off.

Anne hugged her husband from behind "are you ok honey?" she asked.

"I'm fine." James gave her hand a little squeeze. "I'm fine; it's just rough thinking the worst of someone when you used to always think the best. I hope to God Chick's wrong."

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

"Range law," Ron stated, as he took a seat on a wooden fence post. "Everyone knows that cattle rustling is a hanging offense, but that never stops some people."

Kim sighed as she leaned on the fence next to Ron. "It's barbaric, but it's been the law of the land for many years. There is a lot at stake here, a man's cattle is his livelihood. I sure hope it's not true, I know my father wouldn't want any blood on his hands… have you ever seen a man get hanged?"

Ron had seen some men die in a number of ways, but hanging wasn't one of them. "No, but I've heard the grisly details and it sounds worse every time I hear it."

_This could be trouble. If Avery is a rustler, than as an employee of the Circle C, it's my duty to ride with Mister Possible. And if they are all rustlers, they are not going to give up their lives easily. So that means there might be a fight…_

Ron shook the thoughts away.

"Hey, your mother told me about the town festival tomorrow night, I was wondering if you'd like to go with me?"

Her right eyebrow rose "go… with you?"

"As friends," he said quickly, "of course as friends. You don't expect me too go alone do ya?"

"No, you don't have to go alone; you can go with the other cowpunchers. They go to every festival together. Besides, who said we were friends anyway?"

He shrugged "I thought we were friends. We are friends right?"

Kim placed her hand under her chin. "Hmmm…"

"Fine," he said disappointed. "I just thought…"

Ron stopped short when suddenly, through the corner of his eye; he saw a snakehead come flying towards his face.

Rattlesnake! He screamed and fell backwards, right off the fence post onto his back. Once on the ground, he didn't dare move for fear of being bitten. A harmless brown snake crawled down his pant leg and onto the ground.

"What the heck?"

Ron looked up when he heard Kim laugh. Then he realized that she had thrown the snake at him.

"Alright, if we're going to be friends, you're going to have to work on getting a manlier scream." She smiled at him as the wind began to whip her around her face. Then she laughed again and walked away.

Ron stared off into the sky. "I've got the feeling that this will get complicated."

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX  
The next night

Inside of the Circle C bunkhouse, Billy Fry stared at the empty bottle next the washbasin. He snatched it up furiously. "Which one of you saddle tramps finished off my perfume?"

"Perfume?" said Bo Taggert from four bunks down. "The way it smelled, I thought it was cod-liver oil. Well look at it this way, it beats you walking around here fouling up the air for the rest of us. Laughter went up through the bunkhouse.

Billy was furious. "Well maybe if any of you any actually talked to girls you'd know how important this is!"

"Calm down Billy, you already took three baths today. You smell good enough."

"You're wrong Silas, nothings good enough for my Amelia," he said proudly.

Ron, who at the time was losing at checkers, took interest in the conversation. "Hey John, who's Amelia?"

John jumped a few of Ron's pieces. "Amelia is the lady that Billy talks about in his sleep. Hey Billy, if nothing's too good for her then why she's talking to a sorry son of gun like you instead of a handsome bronco like me?"

"Please," Billy scoffed, "Amelia's got good taste, that's why."

"Hah," said Stanly Colbert, "women are like flies, they'll soon enough land on some turd than some honey."

More laughter

"Now get the heck out of here so I can wash up too, you ain't gonna get any prettier" said Stanly.

"I ain't pretty, I'm handsome."

"According to who, your mother?"

Billy walked out in a huff, leaving a wake of laughter behind. A second later, Ron followed him out.

"Hey, are ok? They were teasing you something awful in there," Ron said.

"It's alright," Billy said, "it's just their way. Can't really blame them though, I haven't seen my girl in days and being away from her for so long is making me feel angry."

"Sounds like you're in love. I know some people who consider that a sickness."

Billy smirked. "I wouldn't argue that, my stomach does flips around Amelia. Do you have a special girl?"

"It's a wide field my friend and I plan on playing it for awhile."

"I know what you mean. Sometimes I think I'd be better off as a bachelor. But every great man needs a great woman behind him."

"And vice versa," Ron replied.

"What was that?"

"Nothing, I was thinking out loud again. If you don't mind me asking, how did you know Amelia was the girl for you?"

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

There were dozens of horses hitched in front of the dance hall, when Ron and the other cowhands arrived at the party.

"Wow, looks like the whole town made it here tonight," said Silas. Children ran around the hall while the adults stomped around, drank, ate, and danced to their hearts content.

Ron spotted a group of young ladies standing in a corner of the room. he smiled as he adjusted his shirt. "Gents, this is where we part." He casually strolled over to them. "Good news ladies, I've come a courting."

"Excuse me," someone said angrily.

Ron turned around. "Ah Miss Rockwaller, pleasure to meet you again."

"Who are you and what do you think you're doing?"

"Uh, I'm Ron, I work at the Possible ranch, Kim's friend remember."

"Look, I don't really care who you are, but what exactly do you think you're doing?"

"Uh, I was thinking maybe one of you girls would like to dance." he winked at them. A blond girl smiled back at him.

Bonnie looked him over for the second time "Uh-huh, if I remember correctly, you just recently drifted into town dirty and penniless…

Ron was taken aback. "Well, I was a little dusty but I wouldn't go as far as to say dirty…"

"…And you have the nerve to come over here like you're something special. Why should these **_Ladies_** dance with a no account like you anyway?"

Ron was momentarily speechless. "….Uh I can cook."

She put her hand up to his face. "Please, spare yourself further embarrassment and just stop talking. If you'll excuse me… ladies, I have some real respectable gentleman for you all to meet."

Bonnie signaled for the girls to follow her and they all giggled as they did, the one blond waved to him sadly as she left.

"Shoot, that's too bad pard," said Billy. "Bonnie's powerfully influential with all the young ladies in Middlewood. She just put a spoke in the wheel of any courting you'd be doing tonight; might as well consider yourself branded."

Ron waved his hand dismissively. "Come on, how much influence can one person have? You underestimate my appeal, watch closely as I make a mash on these ladies tonight"

Billy shook his head sadly.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

A half hour later Ron stood to the side alone tapping his feet as another round of dancing started.

"Well, if that don't take the rag off the bush. Everybody who can move is dancing!"

He watched as an old man with a cane shuffled pass him with a pretty woman on his arm. "That's not even fair" he commented

"Well, aren't you a might handsome young fellow."

Ron's spirit was shortly lifted "Thank you kindly Miss. Possible but I think you're the only one here who thinks that."

"Don't worry about it," said Mister Possible who was by her side. "Woman are finicky creatures. Heck, I'm always worried my darling here will someday tire of me."

"Now James, that'll never happen." They kissed and Ron groaned. "Hey, there goes Kim," he said, pointing to where she was dancing with Josh.

"They're standing awfully close together, aren't they?" James frowned.

"Now honey, don't start," Anne said, then she noticed the disappointment on Ron's face.

"Are you all right?"

"I'm fine, it's just that I don't even know why people dance. I mean all it does is make you sweat."

She smiled knowingly. "These girls don't know what they're missing."

"Thank you kindly ma'am," he replied. A moment later, they left him alone again. Ron watched Kim dance across from him, her hair was flying around her shoulders and she looked her prettiest. For some reason he couldn't help but be a little irritated.

"I need drink," he said to himself.

"Here you go sonny," someone offered him a cup.

"Much obliged," Ron said with his eyes still on Kim, he grabbed the cup and took a big swallow.

He did a spit-take; his mouth went numb, and his throat felt like it was completely on fire.

"What is this?" he sniffed the cup. "Whiskey? Doesn't anyone drink water in this town?"

Old man Lunsford grabbed the cup from Ron's hand. "I'd appreciate it if you didn't waste my good liquor," he hiccupped.

Ron smelled the whiskey on his breath. "Well you're all roostered up already, aren't you?"

"Hey, the party never ends when you're drunk sonny. You'll learn that soon enough."

Ron turned to the happy crowd "how about you tell me about some of the folks here, old timer?"

Lunsford stared off into the crowd. "Alright," he pointed to a fancy looking couple, "that there yonder is the Pattersons, one of the richest families in Middlewood. But Miss. Patterson still takes the time to be the schoolmarm for the younguns, bless her soul. There goes the preacher Joseph Garber, bless his soul. And that there is Maxwell Quinn, I'd bless his soul too if I wasn't so sure he was the devil…"

"Hold on," Ron interrupted as his eyes fell on some new comers to the party.

Three tough looking hombres sauntered into the dance hall. They were mean looking, hard-bodied individuals. Especially the one the middle, he was a scrawny looking figure in a big floppy hat. The youngest of the three by far, but to Ron, he looked the most vicious. As they strolled across the dance floor, the one in the middle looked at Ron and their eyes met. Time slowed still as they stared into each other's eyes from across the room. Then he smiled at Ron, tipped his hat to him and walked away.

"Those are some of Avery Bronson's boys at the El Coyote ranch. The one in the middle is Dub Wilson, the one on the right is Jack Conner, and the other is Trip Harrison."

"Those aren't real cowhands."

"What?"

"Those fellas over there, they're miles of bad trail"

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

Ron was entertaining thoughts of leaving early, when Dub Wilson suddenly approached Kim and Josh. Ron watched anxiously as Kim graciously turned him down and continued dancing with Josh. Dub didn't leave right at away he just stared for a moment and then gave a nasty sneer before walking off. His eyes caught Ron's again and Dub continued to smile. Murdoch had once told him that any gunman worth his salt should be able to sniff out trouble on the turn of a breeze.

"What in tarnations are you looking at boy?"

"Keep this to yourself old timer, but from my past experiences, I can spot gunman by the gleam of sweat on his forehead, the bullet holes in his chest, and especially the look in his eyes. Those three aren't cattle hands." Lunsford looked forward and wordlessly took another sip from his cup.

Once again lost in thought, Ron failed to notice Kim and Josh approach him.

"What's with the serious look?" Kim asked.

"Nothing, I'm just thinking about some things." Then he turned to Josh, whose face had grown a little pale. "Are you ok?"

"I'm fine, my stomach is just a little queasy all of a sudden," he groaned. "Dance with Kim for awhile I've got to get some air."

He handed Ron Kim's hand and went outside.

"Well, can you dance?" she asked.

"Can I dance? Does the sun rise in the east and set in the west? Is the devil a liar, is the sky blue…"

"Alright, I get it, let's dance already."

The band started on a round dance, forcing them to come close together for a slow dance "So have you been enjoying yourself?"

"Oh sure, beside the fact that your best friend, Bonnie has turned all the gals in here against me."

"Bonnie," she muttered. "Its not the first time she's black listed someone. You should have told me, I could have talked to the girls."

"Yeah, uh I don't really cotton to relationship charity. I'm not that desperate… yet."

"Well maybe if you fixed yourself up a little," she countered.

"What?"

"You know, buy some new clothes, fix your hair up."

"Wait a minute, did we get married without me knowing it? Now you're telling me how to dress, unbelievable."

They stopped talking for a bit as they got into the dance. They inched closer with each extra step

"This is kind of nice," he said as she laid her head on his shoulder.

"Yeah," she replied.

Abruptly Ron backed off some "What's the matter?" she asked.

He gulped. "I just realized your pa has been eyeballing me since the dance started. And I believe I'd like to keep my job."

Kim looked around the room. "Hey Josh hasn't come back yet."

"Who? Oh right Josh, yeah that is queer."

XXXXXXXX

Josh felt his teeth rattle when the fist smacked into his face, sending him to the floor.

"What's the matter amigo, you too good looking to fight back?" laughed Dub Wilson.

Jack Conner and Trip Harrison were very imposing figures, huge by normal standards. They picked Josh off the ground, and held him up in front of Dub. He grabbed Josh by the chin.

"You don't look so handsome from here. Whatcha got that I ain't got?"

"How about class!" Kim called out as she stepped outside. Ron came out right after her.

Dub Wilson smiled. "Now hold on little lady. Us men here are having ourselves a private conversation. Now don't you worry you pretty head none, I'll treat you to dance later."

Kim was furious she stepped forward. "Let him go, or else."

"Or else?" Dub turned to the others and laughed. "Looks we got ourselves a feisty heifer here boys."

Jack and Trip began to laugh aloud and they didn't notice Kim was on top if them until it was too late. She knocked Trip down with a crushing punch, and elbowed Jack in the face, breaking his nose.

"What the heck was that?"

Kim took a fighting stance. "Wushu, Chinese martial arts."

Ron laughed _Chinese martial arts. She is just full of surprises._

"You boys ain't going to be turned into fools by a woman, is ya?" cried Dub.

Trip rushed at Kim.

_Attacking a woman, I was right these guys aren't respectable cattle hands, there the worst kind of villains._

Before Ron could take another step forward, Trip threw a left at Kim, who feigned to the right and caught him with an uppercut. Then she grabbed him by the collar and kicked his feet out from under him. Trip landed on his face hard.

Jack reached for Kim. She grabbed his am and flipped the big man over her shoulders. From the ground, he reached for his pistol, but his holster was now empty. He heard the familiar click and now found the gun pointed at the bridge of his nose.

"Don't move," Kim said. "Its over; don't make me do something we'll both regret."

Ron whistled "well I'll be….

As Dub Wilson looked at his groaning friends on the floor and then back to Kim, he slowly started move towards her. "Alright missy wait a minute, guns are dangerous for a little gal like you."

"Stay right where you are!" Kim started to level the gun when Ron pushed her hand back down.

"Aiming a gun at him will only give him a reason to shoot you. And it'll be called self defense." Ron turned towards Dub. "It's over sir. Take your friends to the sawbones down the street and leave us be."

"What if I don't, you going to pull on me?" Dub wiped his hands on his shirt and lowered his right hand to his side. "I hope to hell you do, I've been itching for a fight since I got to this pit stain of a town."

_He's baiting me, _Ron thought. "Why are you doing this, I ain't no gunman."

"Like hell you ain't, I can tell a gunman when I see one."

Ron slowly moved away from Kim and Josh. Dub knowingly followed him into the empty street. Ron put his hand up defensively "I'm serious, why does blood have to be spilled here. Let's just talk it out like civilized people, there's no good reason for us to fight."

"Yes there is, I'm calling you out. And that's all the reasons I need."

Kim held her breath; the atmosphere had suddenly turned tense. She wasn't sure what exactly was going on, there had never been a gunfight in Middlewood as far as she knew.

Ron stared at Dub for a moment. "No, I'm not going to fight you, there's no reason too."

"You ain't going to put me off. I know you're a gunslinger, I can tell by your eyes. No, we'll settle this here or I'm going to shoot you were you stand."

_He's serious; he isn't going to back down. What am I going to do?_

A familiar feeling came over Ron. His heart began to beat rapidly and there was a roar in his ears. The rest of the world faded away, and only he and Dub remained. He could hear nothing except for the sounds of his beating heart, the wind in his ear, and his own shallow breathing. Soon they would both combine into one bittersweet melody. A melody that every man in this profession heard, and for many of them, it was the last thing they would ever hear.

Timothy Murdoch, the man who taught Ron everything he knew about gun slinging, had known this song by heart and he aptly named it the Gunman's song.

_Should I draw…what do I do….will he really draw on me? I really don't want to...Yeah, I'll have to draw, teach him a lesson, I don't have to kill him. _

There was a moment of frozen silence, as a breeze kicked up dust around them. Ron counted his heartbeats.

_Now_

"What's going on here?" someone shouted.

Ron and Dub stopped mid draw.

"Are you boys fighting in my streets?" Sheriff Barkin stepped out of the shadows shotgun in hand.

"Oh thank God you're here Sheriff… I was just defending myself from these hardcases; I was scared all to heck!" Ron whimpered.

Barkin stared coldly at Dub. "You're one of Avery's boys aren't you?"

"And Sheriff, I believe they were cursing in front of the womenfolk too."

"What? Cursing in front of the women! I don't stand for any goddang cussing in my town. Who started this fight?"

"It was them Sheriff," said Josh, who was starting to recover, "they started it all."

"He's right," Kim added. She was also recovering from the tense atmosphere.

"All right, let's go, the three of you."

Dub seemed to mull the idea over and then he put his hand up. "Alright Sheriff, I know the law." He turned to Ron and briefly gave him an evil smirk.

Ron, Kim, and Josh watched silently as Barkin started them towards the jail.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

Later that night

The Possibles and their cowhands began the trek back home.

"Well that was a fun night," Ron said, as he glanced at Kim. "What's your problem?"

"An aunt of mine once told me never to let any boys know how good you can shoot or fight. Some men just don't know how to handle it." She turned to him. "Is that true?"

He shrugged. "It doesn't really bother me."

"What about Josh?"

"Oh… heck, if he really likes you then it shouldn't bother him either. And the way I see it, those two boys you beat down aren't going to be talking about that experience anytime soon. So it's all between you, me, and Josh."

"Right," she replied, "the way you were behaving with Dub, it's like you've done that before."

Ron shook his head. "Nah, that was just an act, you know. Like a poker game, I was bluffing."

"Really, so what Dub was saying about you being a gunman. It wasn't true?"

"Who'd believe what that homicidal loon is saying?"

She thought it over for a moment "I guess you're right. What would you have done if Barkin didn't come along?"

"I would have done what every man would have done. I would have drawn."

"Would you have won?"

He hesitated before answering. "If I didn't win, I would have died," he said flatly.

They continued to ride along in silence. When they were a few yards away from home, Kim noticed the worried look on Ron's face.

It was her turn to ask, "What's your problem?"

Ron looked up at the night sky. "Dub Wilson isn't the kind of man that will back down. He's the kind of guy who likes to finish any fights he starts."

"So that's what you're worried about."

"Yes I am worried about that, he's a professional gunman. I'm going have to leave town to avoid this fight."

"Don't worry about it, just stay close to me I'll protect you," she said simply

Ron stopped his horse for a moment. "What, you'll protect me? Shouldn't it be the other way around?"

"Why?"

Ron shrugged again. "Ok, good point. So you are going to protect me from the homicidal, tough as nails gunman?"

"Of course, just say the word and I'll be there." She smiled and rode off towards her parents.

"She has got to be the most unique female I have ever met in my entire life." Ron patted his horse on the head. "Well partner, we've got a problem. We can leave now and avoid the fight we both know is coming or stay here and keep trying to find our happiness?"

The horse neighed happily.

Ron sighed. "Yeah, I hear you buddy. Maybe I should sleep on it."

* * *

There you go, what do you think about things so far? Got into a little bit of Will Du's(why does everyone hate him so much?)background and I'd like to now what everyone thinks of Kim's fighting ability(obviously I have an explantion about how she learned to fight) So read and review. 


	4. Rep

A/N I'm not a hundred percent sure yet but I'm thinking of turning Middlewood into a series. A couple of stories a few oneshots here and there will probably be enough to tell the whole story. Now some of you might say hey, what kind of western is this. There's no action! To those people I say just keep riding with me partner I'll get you where you want to be.

I'd like to thank all you readers out there, I was a little nervous about this story. But that's all over now. And a long overdue shout out to Zaratan for being a beta.

Alright there's going to be a bit of jumping around in this chapter so bear with me. I've got allot of OC's to introduce and story lines to lay down.

* * *

A few hours after his averted showdown, as the rest of the bunkhouse slept, Ron tiptoed past the bunkhouse doorway and slowly closed the door behind him. He stared up with admiration at the sparkling stars in the endless night sky, then he let out a deep sigh. When he was a few steps away from the livery barn, he heard a familiar whinnying. 

Ron smiled to himself knowingly. "Don't worry pard, I'm coming."

He entered the barn and made his way to his horse. He ran his hand across its muzzle. "Couldn't sleep either, huh buddy?"

Ron grabbed the horse's rein. "I've thought about it and after what happened tonight, plus the rustlers, things are going to be hectic around here." He pulled on the horses rein and attempted to lead him out of the barn, but the horse refused to budge.

"Come on pard." Ron tried pulling harder. "Look, I know I said we'd be happy here but things just aren't working out."

The horse snorted at him and took a step back. Ron patted it on the nose. "Come on boy, I don't want another gunfight. Even if Dub doesn't come after me, I'm gonna have to back Mister Possible's play against the rustlers and… well, if we stay any longer, it might be an awful lot harder for us to leave later than it is now."

The horse seemed to ignore his pleading and leaned over to nimble on some dry hay.

"Come one pard, don't do me like this; a man can't travel without his horse. We're supposed to be partners. Hey, we can drift around from town to town like the old days….we'll find somewhere else to live. I hear California is nice."

It continued to chew on the hay.

He tossed the reins down with a frustrated heave. "If I stay here, I'll have to shoot somebody, and God knows I don't want to. You hear me, you're going to have blood on your hooves. Is that what you want? Now, I say we skedaddle tonight."

It snorted at Ron again but then it nuzzled him with its nose, before licking Ron's open palm

His demeanor instantly softened. "Alright boy, I hear you… I don't really want to leave either. I think you know me more than I know myself. Fine, we'll see how this hand plays out."

He patted his partner on the nose once more before exiting. Instead of heading back to the bunkhouse, he walked over to the nearest oak tree. He sat back, leaned against the bark, and pulled out a folded paper from a pocket in his vest. He laid the letter across his lap and stared at it in the darkness. He couldn't read it now but that didn't matter, he knew what was written on it by heart.

_Dear Ronald _

_Well boy if you are reading this letter then that means your mission is over and you are still alive. But then again if you are reading this letter that means I am dead. Funny how life works out that way, but that is how it is for bold gunmen like you and me. I am writing this letter because this afternoon I was called out by a young saddle tramp in town, it seems that I killed his father in a gunfight a few years back. Now he is out for blood, callin me out like his old man did all those years ago. Unfortunately he caught me at a bad time I was already fall down drunk by then. Should have caught me before noon. So the fight has been put off until today. You might say how's that different from any other day in my life, but on my way back home I saw an owl. A hooting owl boy, critter stared me right in the eye and hooted at me. _

_Now I do not need a wild scalp raising injun to tell me that is a bad omen. It means death boy every good gunman knows that. But it is not just the owl, I can feel it in my bones, it is my time. I am not angry though there is no profit for me living anymore. I'm getting older everyday, I'm meaner than the hell, and I've got nothing left to prove to myself or to anyone else. I have seen everything I have wanted to see in this life and plenty more, I didn't. _

_Enough about me, I want to say that I am proud of ya boy and it was pleasure having you around. You are probably wondering what do I do with my life now. I will tell you, you run. Get as far away, from what you did as you can. If you were smart, you did not let your name get out and you did not leave any witnesses. Trust me the last thing you want is a reputation as a big gun. A reputation is like a good bottle of whiskey easy to pick up but hard as hell to put down. _

_I hope that for you the killing is over, but now comes the hardest part, just living. That was the hardest part for me but I sure hope you have learned from my mistakes. Get away boy, change your name and leave it all behind. Follow your father's advice go find your happiness in this world and hold onto it, and protect it if you have too. _

_Here is my last few pieces of advice do not fall for the first good-looking rump that shakes its way towards you. I know you boy; try not to hitch yourself to the first rail that smiles at you pretty. If you do, at least make sure, she has enough sense to keep you focused on something important. _

_Finally, I have no doubt I killed this boy's pappy. He's got as much right to revenge as you do boy, that's how it is, that's how we've lived. But I'm asking you don't' do anything foolish in my name, my story ends here. _

_Damn it all if this is not the longest letter I have ever written in my life, and I am still writing. In the end though I can't help but wonder if my Rosa is waiting for me. But what's really on my mind is a question I have asked myself all these years. Am I an evil man? _

_I am still searching for the answer to that question _

_Yours Truly _

_Fast Timothy Murdoch_

Ron folded the letter and put it back in his vest. "What do I do Murdoch? How do I know when I've found my true happiness?"

XXXXXXXXXXXXX

The Next Day

"Come on Sheriff," Avery Bronson pleaded, "I need these boys, you of all people know I can't afford to lose two of my best hands."

Sheriff Barkin leaned back in his rocking chair as he cleaned and polished his shotgun. "These boys were causing trouble in my streets and, worst of all, they talk too dang nasty."

He pointed to Trip Harrison. "That one over there was cussing all the way to the cell!"

Avery wiped his damp forehead with a handkerchief. "Come on Sheriff, the boys might have gotten a little too much too drink, and gotten into a fight, no guns were drawn no one really got hurt. I'm sure they've learned their lesson. It's their first offense."

Barkin put down his shotgun. "Avery, I know we've got history together but I can't have these boys disturbing the peace."

"Look Sheriff, I know that, I promise I'll take them out of town quick, so there's no danger. I'll ban them from coming to town for awhile, and cut their pay. Come on sheriff, you know me, I need these men."

Barkin rubbed his cleaned shaven chin. "Alright, I guess they might have learned their lesson. But they're going to stew in the cell for awhile. Come back tonight and pick them up."

Avery smiled. "Thank you, Sheriff." He brought his hand to his hat brim and tipped it to Barkin. "I owe you one." He headed for the door. "I'll be back tonight."

He let out a sigh of relief once outside the sheriff's office and he once again wiped the sweat from his forehead. "How did I get myself into this mess?" he said to himself, before stepping on the boardwalk.

Avery walked on down the street. When he got near Doctor White's office, he spotted a familiar figure standing near the entrance.

"James Possible, what brings you into town?"

James lifted his head slightly. "I'm just visiting the missus. It's been a long, long time Avery."

"It has at that." He smiled. "Visiting the missus huh? I wish I still had my Belle to boss me around, God rest her soul."

"Wives don't call it bossing around Avery, they call it education." They laughed, but then James turned semi serious. "I hear you've fallen on some hard times."

Avery was a little taken aback. "You've heard about that?"

James nodded. "Well it's not that hard to guess, with you walking like a man with a snake up his leg."

Avery closed his eyes. "Well, I won't lie too ya, I'm in danger of losing my ranch, but I'm going to get through it. I can't lose the ranch, it's all I've got left."

James studied Avery's face. "A man will always have his pride Avery, he can't lose that."

Avery gave him a smile and spit out a small stream of tobacco juice. "Yes that's true, a man always has pride."

"We've been neighbors for years, if you need any help, I can always lend you a hand."

"Thank you kindly. But I'll find my own path out of this." He tipped his hat to James and slowly made his way past him.

Anne stepped out from the doctor's office. "I couldn't help overhearing," she said, "what do you think?"

"I'm not sure what I think any more."

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

"A washing machine?"

"Yes a washing machine, keep your voice down," Wade said.

Kim peeked through the door of the barn to make sure no one was around. "Keep calm Wade, there's nothing around but horses."

Wade grabbed the blueprints from her hand. "This is going to revolutionize the world. All you have to do is put the clothes in this tub and they're snagged by these pegs that swish them around in the soapy water. Now, here's the genius part, the pegs moved back and forth by an arrangement of gears connected to this bicycle." He pointed to the large high wheel mechanism.

"Bicycle?"

"Don't get all balled up on me Kim, try and keep up. Not only will women be getting their clothes clean, they'll be able to stay in shape for their husbands."

"Excuse me?"

Wade corrected himself. "Stay in shape for their health, that's what I meant, for their health."

She looked over the contraption. "Why don't you use that internal combustion thing you were working on last year to power this washing machine."

"Well I haven't gotten that to work properly yet… without exploding anyway. Alright let's move on to your stuff."

He reached into a large carpetbag and pulled out a belt with different sized pouches.

"What's this?" she asked.

"This is your utility belt; it'll hold everything you need for quick and easy access. The smoke bombs, pepper bombs, the super adhesive, boomerang, bullet cartridges, anything you need."

"Great!" She grabbed the belt and put it around her wrist. "And it's quite fashionable too."

"Now don't thank me yet, I don't want to blow, but I've got a few more treats for you. Now here's something I'm particularly proud of, the secret sleeve device."

Kim stared at the wooden device with a spring attached to it.

"You strap this to your arm under your clothes, and when you push the trigger here at the end whatever you've got loaded into the SSD will slide right into your open palm. You can load a blade into it or a small gun, like a derringer, this will definitely catch anyone by surprise."

Then he pulled his left sleeve down revealing what looked like a pocket watch strapped to his wrist. "Keep your eye on this, it's the Pièce de résistance" He placed his arm under a stream of sunlight coming through a hole in the roof of the barn. He flicked the device open and it suddenly created a blinding light.

Kim instinctively placed her hand over her eyes.

"People can't shoot what they can't see," said Wade. "But that's not all." He angled the glass in the watch like device to focus the sun's rays at a piece of timber on the floor. Slowly but surely the piece of timber began to catch fire.

"That's dangerous," Kim cried out as she stomped the fire out. "Be careful, you can light the whole town on fire." She sighed but then a smile came to her face. "Wade, has anyone ever told you that you're a genius?"

"Of course, everyday since I was three."

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

Cala Del Castor Texas

It was the dead of night as Sheriff Paltry led his handcuffed prisoner across the street of the tiny town.

"May I ask where the hell you're leading me Sheriff? It's not polite for a man to be woken up in the middle of the night."

"Now don't go and blow-up on me son, I'm sorry I woke you up. But we're just going to meet a friend of mine."

They walked on towards the general store where a young man was waiting, his head was lowered just enough to hide his face under his hat brim. Suddenly a woman walked up and stood beside him. The young man coolly rolled up a smoke but before he could put it in his mouth, the woman yanked it away from him.

"Didn't I tell you not to smoke these around me, they smell bad"

He glared at her. "Thank you for removing any aspect of intimidation I had managed to create."

"Deputy Marshal Du," said Sheriff Paltry, "I'm glad to finally meet you son, and the widow Director. Barney and I went back awhiles. He saved my life on more than one occasion. I'm proud to lend a hand to any kin of his."

"I'm obliged Sheriff, you're doing us one hell of a favor."

"No problem my boy, no problem." He kicked the prisoner in the back of the legs and knocked him down to his knees.

"What the hell is going on?" cried the prisoner.

"Well, he's jumpier than a squirrel isn't he?" said Betty.

"This here is Handsome Pete Wilson," said Sheriff Paltry.

"Handsome Pete?" Will laughed. "He's handsome alright, to a woman with no real options."

Pete growled at him.

"Handsome Pete and Seth Beechum thought they could hide out in my town after robbing a bank in Amirillo. Unfortunately, Pete here didn't know when to put down the rye, found him wandering the street shooting at the moon. Seth hopped town the second he heard about it."

"Well howdy Pete. I'm Deputy Marshal Will Du."

Pete spat on the floor, "Why should I care?" he said defiantly.

Will ignored his comment. "I want to know where you're emergency hideout is. And don't lie, I know you have one that's close to town, just in case you got run out of here. I've got some important matters to discuss with your partner."

Pete chuckled. "Why would I tell you anything lawdog?"

Will didn't say a word as he stared at Pete under the glow of a gaslight.

"So what, are you going to eyeball me all night? I know I'm handsome but I take exception to men looking at me funny. Ever find yourself feeling extra giddy Marshal."

Will, smiled politely at him.

Pete turned to Betty. "You on the other hand I don't mind. Why don't you follow me back to the cell, I've got a few kinks in my back I've got to work out."

Will, turned to Betty. "You better turn away; this isn't something womenfolk should see."

"I understand," she said, and turned her back to him.

Pete chuckled again, trying to sound unconcerned, but panic soon set in when he saw Will reach for the butt of his gun. "Hey now Sheriff, what's going on?"

"What's going on?" Paltry laughed. "Well boy, you were trying to escape. You would have shot me, if the good Deputy Marshal here hadn't put a bullet in your brain."

"Hey Sheriff, this isn't the law, this is cold blooded murder!"

Will removed his revolver from its holster, placed it on Pete's forehead and pulled the hammer back.

"Wait a minute, I can't defend myself here. Help somebody, they're killing me!"

"Too bad Pete," Will said, "this is a very important case for me. But you seem hell bent on not giving me any information. So that makes you as useless to me as a woman who can't cook… no offense," he called out to Betty.

"You and I are going have a talk when this is all over," she said with her back still turned.

"Alright Pete, take this time to make peace with your creator."

"No wait," he sobbed aloud, "eight miles west from here there's an old trail leading to a small shack. If we got seen here, that's where we were going to hole up until the heat came down a little."

"Is that right, you're not lying to us are you?"

"No, I swear," cried Pete, who was now completely unnerved.

"Good," Will smiled. "Goodbye Pete."

"Oh God!" Pete screamed as Will pulled the trigger

_Click _

The hammer came down, but nothing happened. Will pulled his revolver away. "Well I'll be I forgot to load my gun."

"You cold blooded son of a bi--- "

Sheriff Paltry smacked him in the back of the head. "Hobble your lip son, I know you're a criminal but there's a lady present."

Betty turned around and strolled over to them. "Sheriff, if you don't mind"

"Go right ahead ma'am."

"Much obliged," then she abruptly kicked Pete in the face, knocking him back onto the street. "Find someone to work those kinks out."

Will whistled. "He ain't Handsome no more."

Paltry grabbed the unconscious Pete by the arms. "I guess we're all done here."

"Thanks again Sheriff."

"Don't be afraid to call on me anytime, it'll be my pleasure." He started to drag Handsome Pete's body away.

"Eight miles to the west, we better get moving."

"Not so fast, we got this today." Betty handed him a telegram. He read through it quickly.

"Goddang Blackthorne wants us to stay here for a few days to meet with some stranger? We have a lead, we don't have time for this!"

"Lead or no lead, we have orders. Good Officers of the law must follow their superior's orders."

"You can't be serious!"

"I'll go set us up at the hotel," she said flatly.

Will angrily crumpled the telegram into a ball and threw into the street.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

Four days later Circle C bunkhouse

Ron lay in bed, his hat covering his face as the seven other cowhands of the Circle C crowded around in a circle playing a rousing game of poker.

"Ron, why don't you wake up, and get in this game?" Billy Fry asked as he dealt out the cards.

"Leave him be, he's been moping around the bunkhouse all week. Word is some gunman has him plumb scared to leave the ranch," said Silas Thompson.

"Gunman? I don't blame the boy those loons think they're above the law. Why a sane man would want to be a gunman in the first place I'll never understand."

"You know Antonio you ain't got a lick of sense," said Bo Taggert adding to the conversation. "There are more perks to being a gunslinger than for being a lawman. Trust me, I ran with a few gunmen back in my days."

Ron shifted in his bed slightly to eavesdrop on the conversation.

"No kidding Bo, you ran with gunmen?"

"Well Billy, they sure weren't church deacons. Now I wasn't a gunman myself but I saw how they live. And they live a good life until someone plants a bullet in their chest. I tell you one thing, I never saw a gunman worth his salt that didn't have a beautiful woman on his arm."

"Really?"

"I guran-damn-tee you there isn't one good gunman in this world that hasn't bedded himself a bevy of beautiful women."

Ron coughed.

"I bet none of them was as beautiful as my Amelia."

"What the hell is wrong with you Billy? Every time we start talking about women, you start on about Amelia. I have half a mind to kick your lovesick hide out of here. Now where was I… oh yeah its not just the women either. Gunmen get free drinks, free room and board, and all kinds of things. A real gunman only knows three kinds of people, the ones who fear them, the ones who respect them, and those who want to add another name to their belt."

"I've got to tell you, that life doesn't sound too bad," said John Vertree.

"I thought about being a gunman too," Bo continued, "but thirty days in a cell changed that for me"

A shocked look came to Billy's face. "You went to jail? For what, thieving?"

"Nah," Bo said as he scratched his beard, "let me tell you something boys, never fall in love with another man's wife. It'll only bring you trouble."

Most of his fellow cowhands burst into laughter, Billy looked down onto the ground.

"When I get married if any man looks at my…"

Stanly Colbert jumped to his feet. "So help me Billy, if you say 'my Ameila' again I'll…"

"Damn it all Stanly you're breaking up my thoughts." A sly smile came to Bo's face. "I never thought I'd say spending thirty days was worth it but that schoolmarm would curl your toes. She had the softest…"

"Ahem."

The cowhands turned quickly towards the door.

"Oh Miss Possible," Bo said, "you should have knocked."

Her face had turned a crimson red. "I did knock, for about five minutes, but I guess you guys were caught up in this conversation."

Bo and some of the cowhands cleared their throats. "What brings you here?"

"Right, where's Ron?"

"That lazy good for nothing, he's over yonder, good luck getting him out of bed."

She walked over to his bed. "Ron, how about helping me get some actual work done today? He let out an obviously phony snore.

She snatched the hat off his face. "I know you're awake, so stop playing games."

"Huh, what's going on?" he replied, as he rubbed his eyelids.

"I need your help finding something out on the plains."

"The plains huh, riding out there in the saddle under the hot sun, that's going to be rough. Well good luck with that." He shifted to his side, turning his back on her."

"Two pairs of eyes are better than one. I need a friend's help right now."

He turned back towards her. "Look, at the moment I'm having some kind of life crisis, since I don't drink or smoke; and I don't have a wife so all I have left to deal with it is sleep. You understand don't you?"

They stared at each other, engaging in an unspoken battle of wills.

A moment later she smiled at him. "I'll be waiting outside with the horses," then she walked out of the room.

"Adios." He waved goodbye as she left. "You can wait out in the sun all you want. I'll be in here asleep."

He plopped back down on the bed and let out a deep sigh. After a moment, he shifted to his left side, a second later he shifted to his right side.

"Why's it so hot in here?" he muttered to himself as he flipped onto his stomach. Soon after that, he flipped back onto his back.

About another minute or so, he sat up and let out a breath. "Damn." He slapped his hat on and made his way for the exit.

He stopped at the door though when he realized all of the other cowhands were staring at him. Although not one of them said a word, he could see the laughter in their faces.

"What's so funny?"

"Why don't you think about it for a moment?" Stanly answered.

Ron wanted to say something more, but he just walked out. The cowhands laughed and went on with their game.

"I could have sworn she was seeing someone in town," laughed Bo.

"You know how it is. When women are concerned, there's no predicting."

"Well my Am…"

"Shut up boy, I swear I'll…"

"Too bad though, I was just about set on falling in love with her myself."

"Kip, that's the funniest thing you've said all year."

"Full house boys read em and weep."

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

"Here's the problem," Kim started, "Ever since all of this talk about rustlers started, I've been keeping an extra eye our cattle. I might be wrong but I think we're missing some yearling steers. It might be rustlers but then again maybe they got through the fence.

Ron sighed. "Or maybe they've been eaten by coyotes."

"Coyotes?"

"Yes, wild, vicious coyotes got to them. Too bad there's nothing we can do about coyotes we might as well go home."

Ron gigged his horse to turn away, but Kim cut him off.

"If they were eaten by coyotes where are the bones?"

He shrugged. "The coyotes ate them."

"They're not going to eat the bones too."

"Really hungry coyotes would."

"Enough about the coyotes, let's just keep moving."

Ron sighed and followed her lead. They kept their horses to a slow trot as they searched the area.

"God it's hot!"

"Quit belly aching, what kind of cowboy are you anyway."

"The kind who likes to stay in bed and avoid getting heat stroke." He grabbed a canteen of water from his saddlebag. He brought it to his lips when something about her caught his eye. This afternoon, her hair was wild and her clothes were covered with dust and sweat. He swallowed his mouthful of water with a loud gulp, there was nothing ladylike about her now but she wasn't any less attractive.

He was wondering to himself why every time he looked at her the wind seemed to be blowing through her hair when she turned to him.

"You know it's not polite to stare at someone when they're not looking," she told him.

He pulled himself from his daze. "Sorry uh, the sun is, yeah, ok… so you've got a problem with being stared at."

She cocked an eyebrow at him. "Don't you?"

"Depends on who's doing the staring and why. But as a sign of friendship you can stare at me for as long as you want."

"I'm very much obliged," she said sarcastically.

Ron looked up towards the sky "so did you talk to Josh yet? How did he uh feel about the fighting?"

She smiled "I reckon I was worried for nothing. He was fine with it, but I did ask him to keep a secret."

"Why is that?"

"Let me ask you something" she said changing the subject, as she turned to him "I still can't over that night, the way you moved, the way you acted. I've never seen a gunman before, but if someone told me you were one. I'd have to believe them."

Ron avoided her gaze "I thought we went over that already. That was all just bluff that failed miserably."

"Really than you should be on stage, you'd be a great actor"

He took another swig of water "thank you"

"Have you ever killed a man?" she asked bluntly.

Water sprayed from his mouth Ron did a spit-take "What? Where did that…" he wiped the water from his mouth "N…….No……of course I haven't. It's a hell of a thing killing a man. Anyway even if I have……. and I haven't. That's not something a person would go around confessing."

She nodded "I suppose you're right"

"Really you should warn people before you spring a question like that on them! Oh yeah," he said after a moment of silence, "I forgot to ask, where did you learn to fight so well? That Chinese wusu stuff."

"Wushu," she corrected, "and that is a secret."

"A secret?"

She nodded. "I won't tell you that until you tell me something about your past."

"You devil… why do you think I have any secrets anyway?"

"Oh, you have secrets all right, I can tell. And that's pretty amazing considering how talkative you are."

"Maybe it's all a ploy, woman love secretive men. Maybe you've just fallen into my web of charm. You ever think about that?"

"Oh yes I have, it actually keeps me up at night." She laughed "Anyway that's the deal, I'll trade a secret for a secret."

_Secret for a secret huh _

Ron grabbed the canteen of water and took another swig, he closed his eyes as he did so.

"Next week is my birthday," he said abruptly.

"That's not much of a secret," she said.

_What am I doing? _He swallowed back, what felt like a lump of cotton in his throat. "My parents and my sister were killed on my birthday," he said weakly.

"I'm sorry."

"You know what," Ron chuckled lightly as he continued, "you're the only person in this world besides me who knows that now… don't worry about giving me a secret, that one was on the house."

He spurred his horse forward, moving ahead of her. He wanted to ride alone for awhile.

XXXXXXXXXXXXX

Veronica Walton watched the desert fly by as her carriage rushed towards the town of Cala Del Castor. Four riders on horseback surrounded the carriage; the best protection money could buy.

"Miss Walton, we should be arriving in town by nightfall," said her servant.

"Jenkins, how many times must I say, you have permission to call me Veronica," she said, as she ran a comb through her blond hair.

"But that just wouldn't be prudent, as the servant that is the way I must speak to my employer."

She sighed. "I don't know what I'll do with you Jenkins." She placed her comb back into her bag and, then she snatched a small memento from her past, a small necklace featuring half of an arrowhead.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

El Coyote Ranch

"Where the hell do you think you're going?" Louis Wilson said to his brother, who had one foot out of the bunkhouse door.

"Where do you think I'm going?" said Dub. "I'm going after that blond gunman we've got bad blood twixt out."

"You damn fool, I told you not to go and cause trouble, this is why the other boys get to go to town and you don't. You're liable to bring this whole operation down on us."

"I'm not going to cause any trouble in town; I'm going to the Circle C."

Louis slowly walked over to his brother. "To do what, die?"

Dub looked at his brother incredulously. "I don't think you realize how god-awful fast I am brother."

Louis smacked his brother hard in his face.

"Now hold on Louis…"

Louis grabbed Dub by the back of the neck. "Look here brother, being fast don't mean a thing when you're outnumbered seven to one. Now, if you go to Circle C tonight, even if you beef this gunman, his cowhand partners will kill you. Then the sheriff will start asking questions and they'll find out we're rustlers. And I'll get hung; you don't want your brother to get hung now do you?"

Dub shook his head.

"That's good, now you understand. Remember, we need this ranch only until we get this cattle sold. I promise you, when we get them all sold, you can go prove to the world just how god-awful fast you are, okay?" he said to his brother with a cruel grin.

"Okay," Dub repeated.

Virgil Duval rushed into the bunkhouse. "Hey Louis," he said excitedly, "Lin's back with some new merchandise from Tejas."

"Well, good send him in."

Ten minutes later Lin Norris entered the bunkhouse with a large grin on his face. He pulled on his grizzly beard and let out a loud whoop, when he spotted Louis."

"Lin you old bastard, come on in and have a drink. Did everything go well?"

"Of course it did, we've got a prime selection this time. We'll have no problem selling these heifers."

"Fantastic," Louis said, as he poured Lin a glass of whiskey. "That's what I like to hear."

"Lin, have you got any news for me," Dub said excitedly, "I've been stuck in this do-nothing town for too long."

Lin reflected on the question. "Oh, news for the big gunman. You ever hear of a fellow named Scarecrow?"

"Scarecrow?"

"The newest gunman whose story is catching on by wildfire. Talk is he took six men on his own including Rooster Coover. Everybody's talking about it."

Dub scoffed. "I can take down six men if I wanted to."

"Well you don't have The Undertaker gunning for you. He's offering a reward for any information on whatever rock this Scarecrow's hiding under."

"The Undertaker," Dub marveled, "he only goes after the really big gunslingers. If he's after this Scarecrow then he must be the real deal."

"I guess that means he's out of your league, huh Dub," Louis teased.

Dub stared angrily at him. "Any idea on what this Scarecrow looks like?"

Lin took a sip from his glass of whiskey. "They say average height, blond hair, freckles on his face, and two colts on his hip."

The whole room went silent.

Dub chuckled softly. "You're pulling my leg, right Lin?"

'What do you mean?"

"You're serious, ain't ya? Oh dear god, you're serious!" He laughed, he turned to his brother. "Did you hear that brother Louis? I'm going to be famous. I'm going to be a big gunman, just you wait and see."

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

It was almost morning when Curly Thomas, Cray Shaw and Franck Strucker slipped onto Possible property. Cray and curly watched as Frank brought down a yearling steer and proceeded to tie it's hooves together.

Curly adjusted his gas lamp so they could all see clearly. "Now remember, we can't take too many at a time or they'll get suspicious," Frank whispered to his partners. "And don't forge---

"Freeze," Ron shouted, cutting him off

"What the…?" The three figures turned as Ron's figure came towards them in the darkness.

"Don't try to make any wrong moves or they might your last."

"Who the hell are you?" Cray shouted.

"That doesn't really matter."

Frank stood up and put his hands in the air. "Alright, you got the drop on us fair and square, what do you want?"

"Now, I could alert the other cowhands and you three boys would be decorating the bad end of a rope by morning. But it doesn't have to come to that. Now, I'll be happy to keep this between us if you leave now and, for the future, keep away from our cattle."

"What do you mean?" asked Curly.

"Come on guys, you and I know you weren't here to watch the sunrise."

Cray's hands inched towards the butt of his gun but before he could even reach his peacemaker, a shot rang out and a bullet cut the holster from his hip sending it crashing the dirt.

Frank and Curly reached for their weapons only to have a bullet rip through their holsters sending their pistols spinning into the dewy grass.

"Jesus Christ," Frank Strucker muttered under his breath.

"Hey now, don't you know how dangerous it is to drop your guns like that. You boys should really take a look at those holsters, that material might be cheap… now, I don't want to kill you and I'm pretty sure you don't want to be killed. So let's part ways right here."

"Alright, we're sorry, we'll leave and we won't back." The three rustlers began to slowly back away.

"Oh and tell the rest of your group to stay away from Chick Moore's place too. Please don't make me regret letting you live."

They nodded, turned, and ran off to where the had hidden their horses. After he was sure they were gone, Ron let out a deep breath, released the steer and collected their weapons off the ground.

"That was easier than I thought it would be." He hoped it would be enough to keep the rustlers out of their hair for good but deep down, he knew better. But at least it would delay the inevitable. He placed his colt back in his holster and headed for the bunkhouse. When that time comes, he would find a way to deal with it. He had found away to deal with everything else so far.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

The next morning:

After breakfast, Ron slipped away from the ranch alone and quickly headed towards Middlewood. His horse kicked up a cloud of dust as he booted it forward. Dark clouds filled the sky announcing the oncoming rain.

_I'll go to town get some supplies for dinner and then I'll hightail it out of there before I spot any of Avery's boys. That's the plan, and it's a great plan. Well maybe not a great plan but it's a decent pla….ah damn _

Ron slowed down when he spotted the group of eight men waiting ahead of him on the road to town.

_Damn I should have been paying more attention. They had to have spotted me already. Should I turn back? Yeah I should…….if I want to die with a bullet in my back. We're about five minutes to town, people in town will hear any gunshots. Maybe they don't want to fight.…….God willing. _

Ron rode slowly until he was just a few yards away from the men. He didn't recognize any of their, ugly and ornery faces.

_This is no welcome wagon. _

Louis Wilson gigged his horse forward and took his place at the front of the gang "this is the gunman" he said with a mouthful of tobacco, "I can't say I'm too greatly impressed."

Lin Norris laughed "blondie here looks a dandy to me" The other members of the gang joined in on his laughter.

Louis rode closer to Ron "I hear you had a run in with some of our boys."

"Did I? Wait I do remember running into some people last night. I wonder what would some of Avery's boys be doing on Possible property at that time of night."

Louis turned to the rest of the gang and smiled "well Mr. Scarecrow maybe they got lost?"

A chill went through Ron's spine; it took all he had from gasping in shock "what did you call me?"

"You heard me, I know who you are. Word is you took out Rooster Coover's gang all by your lonesome."

"You've got me mistaken with someone else…….

"Now what I want to know" Louis said as he cut Ron off "is why I big famous gunman like yourself comes to this pit-stain of a town and becomes a cook. Heck according to your reputation you should be running this town, especially a town with a cripple sheriff."

The gang laughed.

"So I reckon you want to start over" Louis opened his arms wide "live a normal life as a honest, law abiding citizen. Live the American Dream, is that it? Maybe even get to know the boss's daughter a bit, and I don't blame you. She's a good looking girl."

"We're just friends----

"I don't really give a damn." He dismounted "I didn't come out here to air out my chewing tobacco. Normally if someone crossed my men, or me, I'd have him killed deader than hell, especially a person who knows too much about our business practices. But I don't think it has to come to that. So I'm calling a temporary truce Mr. Scarecrow; you leave us alone, we'll the Possible ranch alone, and you can go on being, a-nobody cook."

He put out his hand "now can I invite you off your horse to shake on this truce"

Ron thought it over for a moment and then he got off himself "what do you mean temporary truce?"

"I'm sorry but my brother is the gunslinger in the family, when this is all over he's going to come a calling for you. I have no control over it, that just who my brother is."

"Let me guess" Ron smiled weakly "he wants me and him to draw loaded weapons and fill ourselves with wide gaping holes."

"As a gunman that kind of thing, should be natural too you. But you have my word no harm will come to anyone else after that, especially your pretty friend."

"I'm not too worried about her, she can handle herself. I think Trip Harrison and Jack Conner are witnesses to that"

Louis scowled "you're a funny boy, aren't you?"

"Don't mind me, sometimes I talk just to see if I still can." He shook Louis' hand "alright temporary truce."

Suddenly Louis pulled Ron forward and jabbed him hard in the breadbasket, knocking the wind from him.

"It's a deal Mr. Scarecrow" Louis seethed in Ron's ear "just remember if ya mess with a bull you might get the horns."

Ron coughed "that's the first time I've heard that one. My that is so clever, did you think of that just now?"

In a fit of rage Louis head butted him on the nose dropping him onto his back. "Alright boys let's ride out before we get caught in this storm." He looked at Ron on the floor "I don't usually like talking down to people" he chuckled "But the truce stands as long as my men aren't provoked in any way. It wouldn't be right if I didn't allow them to defend themselves."

From the ground, Ron listened to the gang laugh aloud before galloping away. His horse came up to nuzzle at his face as he stared up at the darkened sky. Blood dripped from his nose and down his cheek, as a drop of rain splashed onto his forehead.

"Finding happiness is harder than I thought it would be partner," he sighed as the rain began to pour down on his face.

* * *

A/N Well there you go,hopefully I haven't disappointed any of you yet. And yes to all of you who have ever seen the T.V show Wild Wild West. The SSD is the same as that gadget from the show, but please have mercy. It's really hard coming up with cool (and semi realistic) inventions for Wade to come with. Read and Review of course. As always feedback is mandatory :) 


	5. El Diablo

A/N Well I have good news and bad news depending on how you look at it. This is an extra long chapter because; I'm stopping this for a while so I can update some of my other neglected stories. So that means no Middlewood for a few weeks, I'm sorry. Nevertheless, there's no crying in fan fiction so let's get on with the chapter. Once again, there is some jumping around in this chapter.

* * *

Seven Years Ago: New Mexico 

Rooster Coover brought his horse to a stop and looked down at the town on the other side of the hill. He had taken the lead and scouted the town himself, so now he would be the one in charge of the eight other men who waited behind him.

"Now this is what we're going to do," he said with determination in his voice. "We're not just going to rob the bank; we're going to sack the whole town. And maybe if you boys do right by me, I'll let you get acquainted with the womenfolk. So follow me and we'll have us a hog-killin' good time."

Martin White and his son strolled up beside Rooster. "Hold on, I've got a problem with all this. The last time you led a raid, we didn't get our fair share of the bank money."

"Yeah," added two other outlaws. "You trying to bilk us out of our share Rooster."

"You didn't get your fair share of the loot, because you didn't do your share of the work. If you don't remember, two of our boys got smoked because the three of you weren't paying attention. So shut your big bazoo, you back- shooting, weasels."

"What? Now look here, I don't care whose brother you are, I won't stand here and be insulted!"

"What's going on up there?" said a voice from the back.

"It's all right Tobias, I can handle this," said Rooster, never taking his eyes off Martin White.

"That's right Tobias, this has nothing to do with you. Your brother has a smart mouth and I've been meaning to fix it."

"Is that right you low life coward----" Rooster made a play of his rifle just as Martin drew his pistol. As Rooster was about to wrap his finger around the trigger, a string of shots erupted and Martin White was already falling off his horse. Before Rooster could turn his head the other three were already on the ground.

The remaining outlaws turned quickly towards Tobias who was bringing up the rear, his blind speed having left them all shaking in their saddles. Tobias smirked behind the rising smoke coming from his revolver.

Rooster glared darkly at his brother, who eventually rode over to him. "Don't worry brother, as long as I'm alive no one will touch you."

He leaned over to his brother. "Dammit Tobias, I could have handled that situation. How am I going to earn you… anyone's respect if you keep…"

Tobias lifted his brother's chin with his finger. "Now brother Rooster, if you want respect you're going to have to earn it. But until you make an impact on this world besides being a Coover, let me take care of these things, little brother."

He turned to the gang. "Now if we're all done socializing here, let's ride." He spurred his horse forward leaving the gang in his dust.

"Jesus," said one outlaw, "did you see that? Rooster your brother, he ain't human!"

"Damn right," another agreed. "Hey Rooster, is it true that he and another gang set a whole town on fire when he was only sixteen."

_And so my brother's legend grows._

"I heard he lined up all the men and shot them himself. Didn't leave anyone alive!" whispered another outlaw. "Is that true Rooster?"

"Nah," Rooster said with a dark look on his face. "Nah, Tobias never did nothing like that," he muttered to himself before riding off.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

The Present

A young outlaw made his way through the crowded area and towards the table on the far side of the room. He nervously handed Tobias Coover a cup of coffee. Tobias graciously accepted the cup and took a sip; he savored it for a moment and then spit the coffee onto the floor.

"You call this coffee, because I call it hog swill. I ought to put windows in your skull for this."

The entire room became deathly silent.

Payton Dawson who sat at a table on the other side of the room looked up from the gold coins he was counting. "Is it me Tobias or are you on the prod again?"

Tobias turned to Payton. "So what if I am? I don't remember hearing about my brother being avenged. I'm still sitting here grieving over my memories of him."

"You know if I wanted to deal with someone barking at me to get something done, I'd get me a wife."

Payton and Tobias' eyes met across the room. The rest of the room collectively held their breaths; they were too petrified to move.

"Payton what kind of criminal organization is this when we can't find and kill one man? I'm seriously starting to become ashamed of what we've got going here."

"Ashamed? You of all people know how big this thing here is. Besides, we've practically made this Scarecrow a legend. Someone will put a bullet in him sooner or later."

"I don't know Payton; I still think I should go out there and do it myself."

"Is that so?"

"Yeah that is so, I'm getting a little tired of hanging around this dump, makes me bored. And when I get bored I get testy…" he put a Colt on the table for everyone to see, "and when I get testy, I tend to shoot people."

There was a massive rush towards the door, dozens of hardened criminals pushed past each other in a mad dash to safety. Once the last outlaw was out the door, Tobias Coover began to howl with laughter.

"Oh Payton, I could have sworn you went through a heap of trouble to get only the most vicious hard cases to be in this group."

Payton was livid. "Tobias, why are you always shooting your mouth off?"

Tobias continued laughing as he put his hand up defensively. "Don't get your back up Payton, I was only joking. It's not my fault there isn't someone you can ride the river with in this crew. Besides, I've got to keep them on their toes, make them think twice about shooting me in the back."

As Tobias continued to laugh heartily, another outlaw cautiously entered the room to whisper something in Payton's ear. A moment later, he whispered something into the messenger's ear and then signaled for him to leave.

"What was that about?" Tobias asked when Payton returned to the money.

"Put your nose back where it belongs," he snapped. After a moment of tense staring, Payton decided it was best for him to reveal what he knew.

"Just got a wire about a Yank regiment secretly traveling with a gatling gun through the Arizona badlands. Unfortunately, they are going to run into an ambush before they get to their destination. I know a couple of Mexican Federales who will pay good money for that kind of fire power."

"Good thinking Payton, you're brain is in apple pie order as always. Was that all that boy had to say?"

Payton stopped and clicked his teeth. "My God, will you quit acting like an old hen! …..I just got updated on this Scarecrow problem. A few days ago some of our boys found Black Jack Clanton. Damn fool got himself arrested in Dallas."

"So what?"

"Black Jack was in your brother's gang."

"And?"

"And according to him a certain saddle tramp by the name of Seth Beechum was a close friend of the Scarecrow kid."

"Now that sounds like good news."

"Problem is, if you'd let me continue, Black Jack also sang like a canary to some Deputy Marshal. I reckon this deputy is on the kid's trail."

Tobias groaned. "God forbid this deputy shoots the kid down. I can't have a lawdog avenging my brother, it just wouldn't be right. To have an officer take revenge for him would be like pissing on my brother's grave. I'm disgusted by the thought of it."

"Settle down, we've got some men on the job. They just arrived at Cala Del Castor, and if things get too complicated, I'll send The Collector in. He knows how to deal with lawmen and he's nearby."

"Ah The Collector," Tobias grinned as he got up from the table, "now there's a gunman, but I can't shake the feeling that he's trying to kill me."

Payton went back to his money. "Tobias, you're the fastest gun in the New and The Old States, everyone who knows you're alive is trying to nail your hide to a board."

Tobias chuckled. "Yeah I guess you're right. That's how we gunman live isn't it, any morning you see could be the last, God I love it… It's the only way a man should live." He headed to the exit. "…Well I'm going to get me one of those doves to twirl; if you smell smoke that'll be the rug burning."

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

In the dead of the night, the assassin walked through the halls of the Dry Ridge Hotel. Knife in hand he crouched in front of the wooden hotel room door of his target. He carefully slipped past the door and let his eyes adjust to the darkness. Only a few more steps to the bed and then he would… he stopped short when something hard and cold pressed against the back of his neck.

Then someone turned on the lights.

"Looks like I have a guest," said Will in mock surprise, as he placed the gaslight on the counter. "What's the matter, you've got a shocked look on your face?"

"Maybe he doesn't like the feel of a rifle against his neck," said Betty from behind the assassin.

"I reckon not many men would." Will smiled. "Well if it isn't throat slitting, back-shooting, all around snake in the grass Matthew Reilly. Yeah I remember your wanted poster clearly; I never forget an ugly face. He's wanted in Oklahoma isn't he?"

"I believe he is," answered Betty.

"What's going on?" stammered Matthew.

"Oh I'm sorry Matt, I spotted you through the window here, eyeballing the room from across the street, I wanted to come over and say hello. But I figured you were going to stop by my room before morning light. I guess I was right wasn't I?"

"I guess you were," Betty said.

Will brushed some dirt off Matthew's shoulder. "Unfortunately for you I have a habit of being right. Betty, if you please."

Without hesitation she clubbed Matthew in the back of the head with the butt of her Henry rifle, dropping him onto the floor.

Will looked down on the ground. "Nice work."

"You think we should have interrogated him first? Find out what he's doing here?"

"Do you know how late it is? We've got to wake up early tomorrow." He looked back at the body on the floor. "Someone is going to have to drag him to the sheriff." He looked at Betty earnestly.

"You're right… well, I'll see you in the morning," she said before walking out of the door, leaving Will alone with the body.

XXXX

The next morning

"Wake up!"

"What… huh… are we going after Seth Beechum?"

"No," said Betty. "What kind of Marshal oversleeps? You've got people to meet today remember?"

"Don't you mean _we _have people to meet?"

"No, I already met them," Betty said as she gathered his clothes off the floor and placed it on his bed

"I swear this mattress feels like spun clouds…. What do you mean you've met them already?"

"What part of my statement don't you understand?"

"The part about _you_ already meeting them!"

"Well next time, try not to oversleep. Here." She handed him a small bottle and jar.

"What is this?" He looked at the jar. "Pomade, perfume; what do I need this for?"

She winked at him. "Trust me, just use it."

XXXXX

Will yawned and stretched once he stepped out of the hotel. About a minute later, his partner/mother strolled up behind him.

"How was breakfast?"

"It'll keep me alive. Meeting these people is such a waste of time!"

"Did you put on that perfume I gave you?"

"I'm talking about our time being wasted, and you're going on about perfume!" he said incredulously.

It was at that moment when a short man, wearing a brown bowler hat, glasses and a brown suit, strolled over to them. "Oh, Mrs. Director."

"Who the hell are you?" Will snapped.

The man stopped short. "Oh my, aren't we tactful. You must be Deputy Marshal Du." He turned to Betty. "It's good to see you again."

"You should have woken me up," Will whispered to Betty.

"You need to learn to wake yourself up; Barney was always up at the crack of dawn."

"Oh I'm sorry; I didn't get enough sleep because I had to drag some deadweight to the Sheriff last night, alone. So what do you want?" Will said to the short man.

"My name is Bartholomew Jenkins, Miss Walton will be out shortly."

Jenkins turned towards the hotel just as Veronica stepped through the exit. "Jenkins," she called out in a singsong voice.

"So this is what the whole perfume thing was about."

"I don't know what you're talking about."

Veronica walked over strolled over to them. "Oh, you must be Marshal Du." She put her hand out.

Betty nudged Will in the rib with her elbow. "Shake her hand."

"Uh, actually I'm a Deputy Marshal." He was admiring her soft and oh so luxurious blond hair when something in his mind clicked. "Wait a minute…Veronica Walton, the daughter of the biggest industrial tycoon in Texas John P. Walton?"

She became flustered. "Why yes, that's who I am."

"That's amazing… so what brings you here Miss. Walton?" Will, said politely.

"Nice touch," Betty whispered to him.

"I hear you are on the trail of a man who goes by the name Scarecrow. I have a personal interest in this individual and I would like to accompany you on your search for him."

Will exploded. "What? This is an important case! If you think, I'm going to sit around and baby-sit some pampered---"

Betty grabbed Will by the arm and pulled him to side. "Will, she has an official letter from Blackthorne asking us… no, ordering us to allow Miss Walton to accompany us—"

"What, why would he do that?"

She sighed. "Think about it for a moment Will. It's no secret that Blackthrone is thinking about a future in public office with a backer like James Walton…"

"Politics, this is all about politics? If we bring them along, they'll slow us down even more than they already have. Everything we've worked for all these years will be ruined."

"Will hobble your lip for a moment….good Marshals adapt to any situation. You take things like this in stride."

"But…"

"Will, adapt."

He took a deep breath to calm himself down and then looked back towards Veronica and Jenkins.

"Besides she looks like a nice girl."

"Stop, I know what you're trying to do, so just stop." He stood still for a moment and scanned his immediate surroundings. "Look down the street."

Will motioned his head in the direction of a group of men loitering a few feet away from them. "They've been watching us for awhile, probably surprised to see me alive."

"Oh, you've just noticed them there. I spotted them the minute we stepped outside."

"Oh bully for you," He walked back over to Veronica. "Miss Walton, we're honored to have you travel along with us. But this is a very dangerous and difficult assignment; there are some bad men out there."

"Do not worry about me Deputy Du, I may be from a wealthy family but I am very capable of taking care of myself. Isn't that right Jenkins?"

"Of course Miss. Walton"

"All right then, we can continue talking as we purchase some ammunition."

"Ammunition for what?'

"Don't worry about that," he said as he glanced towards the loitering men, "just as a precaution."

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

"They call him El Diablo," Bo Taggert said slowly before taking a drag from his cigar. "He's the cruelest, pigheadest, orneriest, animal to ever trod on God's green earth."

"Wow," Ron exclaimed, as he watched from behind the safety of a wooden fence at the belligerent, black stallion in the stable. "He looks mean as heck."

Stanly Colbert nodded. "That stud is a bucker and biter, the only horse here that hasn't been tamed. He is one powerfully mean stallion." Then he patted Ron on the back. "Good luck, I think you might be the one to break him."

Ron laughed. "Hey Stanly, I never figured you for being a loon."

"What's the matter son, he's all saddled up for you to ride," said Bo.

Ron looked from Bo to Stanly. "What, have you two been standing under the sun too long? If you think I'm riding that monster you're crazy."

"Look here son," said Bo, "every new hand that joins our group rides El Diablo; its tradition. Now we put this off long enough. If John our foreman was here, I'm sure he would insist you take part in our traditions."

Ron chuckled nervously. "Are you guys serious?"

"Dead serious," said Stanley. "You want to be one of us, don't you?"

Ron licked his lips. "Alright, it can't be that bad can it?"

"Ralph Salzburg said the same thing. God rest his soul," Bo said before taking another puff of his cigar.

"Heh… that's a good one Bo, you're a funny man."

"You know," Stanley began, "if you can ride El Diablo for more than three seconds, you'll be the manliest man in the whole ranch and that means a lot."

"Especially to certain red headed individuals," added Bo.

"What is that supposed to mean?" Ron asked

Bo just shrugged.

Ron stared at the animal. "Fine, just give me some room." He took a deep breath and let it out. "Alright, I can do this." He hopped over the fence and made his way over to the stable. Once near the animal, he reached for its reins when it jerked its head back and snapped at him.

"Yahh…" He turned back to Bo and Stanly, "is he always this friendly?"

"No, he's just having a good day," Stanley called out to Ron. "So Bo, do you think he's a crazy enough to try and ride El Diablo?"

"Nah… nobody is that crazy."

"Hey guys, have any of you seen Ron?"

Bo and Stanley turned to see Kim coming towards them.

"Oh that good for nothing, he's about to take a chance at riding El Diablo" said Stanley.

"What? He'll be killed"

Bo laughed. "Don't worry, once he gets really close to El Diablo, he'll turn tail and ru---"

Bo stopped at the sound of El Diablo bolting out of the stable. Ron's screams filled the air as El Diablo tried to buck him off his back. A second later, the three of them watched as he was thrown into the air and came crashing down to earth.

Bo took another puff of his cigar. "That's a damn shame."

"Ron," Kim cried out as she leaped over the fence.

XXXXX

_Gunshots in the darkness, that's all he heard gunshots and screams. _

**It's a shame really, sometimes it just comes too easy. The reason for killing that is, or the justification for killing as the smart types would say. But that's the way the world works son. Unfortunately, you'll learn that soon enough… you'll learn soon enough. **

Ron opened his eyes and raised his head up off the pillow just long enough to see that he was no longer outside and that he had a thick bandage wrapped around his right wrist, and a damp rag on his forehead.

"Oh you're finally up," said Mrs. Possible in a soothing voice. "Riding El Diablo? Tsk, you're lucky you didn't break your neck. Good thing Kim was there to bring you into the house."

Realizing he was shirtless Ron quickly sat upright when he was hit by a dizzy spell.

"Whoa, slow down there." She handed him a cup of water. He drank and then pulled the sheet that covered his legs up over his body. "Where are my clothes?" he rasped.

"Oh, they're on the table next to you."

Ron turned to the table, snatched up his clothes, and quickly began to dress himself.

_The scar, she had to have seen the scar. _

"You don't have to be embarrassed; I had to take your shirt off to check if you had broken any of your ribs. Luckily, all you've got is a sprained wrist and a bump on the head."

Ron didn't feel any relief until all of his clothes were on.

"Your wrist might be sore for a couple of days, but you should be fine. In fact, you can go back outside if you want to."

"Th… thank you," he said, before getting off the small cot

He was half way out the door when he turned around. "Um, did you see--?"

"See what?"

_The scar from the bullet wound. _"Um, did you see it?"

"It?" she smiled coyly.

He made a motion towards his midsection. "It?"

"What do you mean, it?"

Ron stared at her in confusion. "Oh never mind," he said after awhile. "Thanks again."

_How could she miss it? _He wondered before closing the door behind him.

XXXXXXXX

"Well I'll be double dammed," said Bo Taggert, "you're still alive?"

"No thanks to you mudsills," Ron said angrily. "That crazy horse could have killed me!"

"Hey now," said Stanley, "how can you talk to us like that? After all we saved your hat." Stanley handed him the crumpled mess that used to be Ron's hat.

"My hat! How did this happen?"

"Well, once you were down and out El Diablo ran across it a couple of times. And I've never seen a horse spit before but, uh, I'll be dammed if I didn't see it hock a loogie towards that hat," said Bo.

"That there is one powerfully mean stallion," Stanley repeated.

"My hat," Ron whimpered.

"Don't worry about it kid, if it means anything, you and your hat are about to be avenged."

"Huh?"

Bo pointed back towards El Diablo's stable.

Ron watched as the El Diablo once again broke out of his stable, but this time Kim ran a couple of steps with him, grabbed the saddle, and swung herself up onto it.

"I see she's got a new riding skirt," said Bo.

"Yes, black riding skirts are quite fashionable I hear."

The stallion was going wild, it spun and kicked high, trying it's best to throw Kim off. She kept her head up and hung on tight to the bucking brute. El Diablo ran in a large circle around the corral. After ten minutes of intense, bucking, snorting, whinnying, and even an attempt at biting its rider, El Diablo began to realize the rider on its back was going to stay there. Within another five minutes, she had managed to get El Diablo to settle down to a slow trot.

"I think she broke him," said Stanly.

Bo laughed and turned to Ron who stood watching mouth agape. He patted him on the shoulder. "After seeing her do that, I'm sure you realize how lucky you are my friend."

Ron blinked at Bo. "Huh?"

Bo shook his head. "The young today, don't know anything about nothing. Anyway, you're one of us now, so try to get some work done one of these days. Come on Stanly, let's get going."

Ron ignored Stanley's laughter as Kim steered El Diablo towards him.

"Are you ok?"

"I'm fine, I just sprained my wrist," he answered. "That was some great riding there."

"Thank you, I think it's just about time we renamed this guy El Ángel. Maybe I'll ride him to town just to teach him whose boss around here. Want to come with me?"

Ron thought about if for a moment. "Sure, why not, it's not like there's anyone there I should be scared of."

XXXXXXXXXX

"What's wrong?" Kim asked when they where half way to town.

Ron looked sadly at his destroyed hat, after a few failed attempts to mash it onto his head. He now realized that the hat was beyond repair. "It's my hat. El Diablo stomped all over it."

"That's too bad. But you can always get a new one in a town."

Ron continued to look at the hat. "This hat and I have been through a lot." He patted his horse. "Just like me and my brother here. My life kind of took a different turn when I got this hat… I think I'd like to bury it."

"What, bury a hat? That's got to be the craziest thing I've ever heard. Are you sure you didn't fall on your head?"

"Yeah, I did fall on my head, that's probably why I'm seeing those floating spots around your face. But I'm pretty sure, fall or not, I'd still want to bury this hat."

He jumped off his horse and started to dig into the ground with his hands.

"You're serious; you're actually burying a hat? You're crazy!"

Ron looked up. "Are you going to sit there all day and be my judge, or are you going to get crazy down here with me?"

She looked around for a bit and then sighed before jumping down herself.

Moments later, they both stood over a freshly dug grave with a large granite rock as a head stone.

_I can't believe we just buried a hat._ "So are you feeling better?"

"Yeah, thanks for helping me out."

"Don't mention it," she said.

Ron looked down at the small grave. "Have you ever done something you didn't really want to do but you felt like you had too do it?"

"Of course, my mother has away of guilting me into doing a lot of things."

He sighed. "Yeah, my mother used to do the same thing when I was little… Alright, let's go."

They walked to their horses when Ron suddenly stopped mid-step. Kim stared at him when she noticed that a crimson tinge had grown from his neck to his hairline "What's the matter, why are you blushing? And your nose is bleeding!"

He cleared his throat. "I just… I just got this joke Bo told me earlier."

"A joke… was it that funny?"

"It's um," he stammered as he shook various images from his mind, "you know what, let's talk about something else."

XXXX

"Fandango?"

"It's another party for the town. Some of the girls are getting together to plan the next one, hopefully this one will be twice as big as the last party. Middlewood's Young Women's League always plans the parties."

"I've got to say, this is the most festive town I've ever been to."

"Why don't you come along?"

"Normally I wouldn't mind being surrounded by the ladies," he said with a smile, "but there's someone in town I've got to talk to. I'll meet up with you later," he said, before breaking away from her.

XXXX

Ron stepped onto Old Man Lunsford's porch as he continued to whittle away at a piece of wood.

"If it isn't my favorite fair haired thrush," the old man said, "what can I do you for?"

"You've been around for along time right?"

"You mean on earth or in Middlewood, cuz you'd be right about both."

"Middlewood. From what I know about society, old men almost know everything that happens in or around town."

"Really," Lunsford said with a slight smile, he fingered his bushy beard. "Well I guess that depends on what you want to know."

"Tell me something about Avery Bronson. Actually I want to know what's been happening to him recently."

The old man reflected on the situation and scratched his head with his whittling stick. "Avery Bronson is a good man, I used to bend an elbow or two with him all the time. He got along well with everybody. But now he rarely shows his face in town anymore. He's probably too embarrassed."

"Embarrassed?"

"After his wife Belle died of the comsumption, Avery got bit by the gambling bug. The word around town a few months ago was that Avery lost his ranch in a poker match up in Bartlesville. Would have been a crying shame too, that ranch has been in his family for four generations."

"But it looks like Avery is still running things at the El coyote. What happened?"

"Cracked if I know," said the old man, "but Avery did fire all his old hands and hired some new ones a month later." He chuckled. "But I don't how he gets any work done, most of Avery's boys are in town every weekend,"

"Well what do we have here?"

Lunsford and Ron looked up. "Well speak of the devils," Lunsford whispered.

"Lookie here Sam, its Dub's buddy Scar… uh, I mean Cooley. It was Cooley right?" One of them laughed.

"You right Shod, it is good ole Cooley. I believe he was on his back the last time we met. What brings you to town Cooley?" Sam asked.

"Nothing special fellas, I'm just having a friendly chat with the old man here."

"Really," said Sam with mock fascination, "that's just great. Me and Shod here are going to get us some ammunition."

"Yeah, you can never have enough bullets. You know what I like about bullets Cooley."

"What's that Shod?" Ron played along

"They're just like me. Bullets have no respect for reputation." Shod then took the opportunity to spit at Ron's feet.

Ron cringed in disgust at the tobacco juice on his boot. He looked up at Shod and Sam. Both of them had their fingers on their pistol butts.

Ron pulled himself enough to give them a smile and a curt nod. "You know I've been meaning to get some supplies myself, thanks for reminding me fellas."

Sam and Shod looked at each other, then back at Ron. Shod snorted. "Come on Sam we're wasting our time with this fool. Dub will take of him anyway."

"Yea," Sam pointed his fingers at Ron. "Pow, pow, pow," he laughed.

Ron waved politely as both riders rode off.

'Whooooowie," Lunsford said, "now that was a tense moment. They were just asking for you to jerk iron at them. Those boys are trouble if I ever seen it. What do they have against you?"

Ron checked his sprained wrist and winced. "Haven't you heard old man, 'trouble follows those who live a life unchosen' That's the standard out here, just as it is in the badlands."

He looked at his boot and cringed again

XXXXXXXXXXXXX

"Bonnie, you're so pretty you take my breath away," said Pete Neville, as he handed her a bouquet of flowers.

"Oh flowers, how ordinary," Bonnie said, as she tossed the flowers to the floor.

"Come on Bonnie don't treat me---"

She put her finger to his lips. "I'm going to be honest with you Pete… You smell like cow."

"But I washed in clean water before I came."

"Next time try washing your clothes." She sighed as she pushed him out of her father's store. "I swear, if his father hadn't just opened a mine out in the mountains, I wouldn't bother holding my breath to talk to him."

Bonnie turned to the other young women in the store. "Alright, let's get back to work; we can use this store for another hour or so. We need to get started on the party preparations, now Marcella you, Liz, and Crystal start thinking about decorations, Jessica you and…..um are we missing some people here?"

"Yes," said Hope, "Kim and Tara aren't here."

"Kim's probably hanging around that drifter friend of hers, like always. But what's Tara's excuse. She---"

"Leave me alone! Or so help me I'll scream."

Bonnie turned towards the door. "That sounded like Tara." She looked out the window "yeah that's her across the street."

"Now hold on little lady, if I didn't know any better I'd say you weren't happy to see to me." Said Virgil Duvall

Tara pulled away. "I tell you day after day to keep away. Why do you keep bothering me?"

"Why do you think? You need to stop messing with the boys here and get with a real man."

He reached for Tara again, when someone held back his hand.

"I believe my friend said to leave her alone."

"Kim," said Tara, "be careful, I think he's drunk."

"What the hell?" Virgil said as he pulled away from Kim, hatred brewing in his red eyes. "I ought a…" he pulled back his hand to smack her away.

Kim prepared to counter the blow when…

"What's going on here?" called out Sheriff Barkin. "Virgil, I hope you weren't about to do what I think you were about to do."

Virgil stopped in his tracks. "I wasn't going to do nothing."

"You right, you weren't going to do nothing, in my jurisdiction anyway."

Virgil gave out a guttural growl when suddenly loud shouting could be heard coming from the Sunset saloon.

"Get up you goddamn card cheat," shouted David Longley

Lin Norris sat calmly in his seat, his hands still on the deck of cards. "I think you better calm down amigo." Everyone else in the saloon pressed to the opposite side of the room

"Calm down? I saw you cheating with my own eyes."

"Back down cowboy, you best to stop spewing hot air, I've been winning here fair and square. If you don't like that fact you know where you can go."

"That's it, I'll show you what we do to card sharks around here, you slick bastido." David reached for his revolver and began to level it when Norris' Russian boomed, sending a slug into David's chest and rocking him off his heels.

No one in the saloon moved

Lin stood up and walked over to David's still body, he smiled savoring the moment, then he turned towards the others. "It was self defense, you saw it. He brought it on himself."

"What's going here, I heard some shooting?" said Sheriff Barkin as he entered the Saloon. Kim followed close behind him. The bartender quickly described the fight to the Sheriff.

"So Longely drew first?" Barkin asked; everyone in the saloon agreed, "I reckon Lin was within his rights, but maybe you should cool down in the cell for a few hours."

"Sure thing Sheriff."

"Lin, you getting into trouble again, you son-of a gun," laughed Virgil.

"You know it," Lin said as he holstered his gun. "meet me back here later and I'll buy you a drink."

Virgil pushed past Kim as he entered the saloon; he made his way to the bar but not before giving her a savage smile.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

Six miles out of Cala Del Castor:

They moved on steadily, without stopping, Will Du and Betty in the lead, Veronica and Jenkins in the back. They zigzagged across rocky land, under the searing sunlight.

"Miss. Walton, I still cannot understand why you would agree to travel without your escorts. You must realize we are in a less civilized environment."

"Jenkins this is an opportunity I cannot let pass. The deputy refused to ride with my escorts so I had to accept that."

"This is too dangerous for a lady of your caliber and you have no idea if this gun slinging ruffian is your brother or not!"

"I know he is Jenkins," she beamed, "I can feel it. And I will not pass judgment on him until I hear his side of the story."

Will looked back at Jenkins and Veronica as the chatted privately. "I wonder what her relation is to Scarecrow. Maybe I should interrogate her."

"Leave her alone. Whatever it is, it's her business," said Betty.

"That's some sound thinking there. What if she decides to put a bullet in our back to protect this Scarecrow?"

"We'll deal with that situation when we get there. Besides not everyone is a criminal to be interrogated. You can catch more flies with honey than with vinegar."

"You and your ten dollar quotes."

Betty shielded her eye from the harsh sun. "The hideout is probably out there in those rocky foothills, if our luck holds, Seth will still be there. Its getting on towards dark, we'd better get there before sunset. Then maybe we can deal with the fools following us."

"Hmmm, funny, I was just thinking the same thing."

"I'm sure you were," she chuckled. "You know, we've been riding along these kinds of trails for awhile now. How much longer do you think we'll be riding for?"

"For as long as it takes, I reckon," he answered. "Yeah, for as long as it takes."

Betty smiled. "Hopefully, as long as it takes won't be that long."

XXXXXXXXXXXXXX

Kim had decided to stay in town for a while to help at the General Store. For some reason, she had insisted Ron go home without her, and he had agreed to do so. Going home alone didn't bother him because his run-in with the rustlers, and the shooting at the sunset saloon, were now weighing heavily on his mind. The rustlers were slowly gaining influence over the town through intimidation. And until they actually broke the law the sheriff couldn't do anything about it.

He stepped off his horse when he spotted a tree stump a few feet away. He gathered some stones off the ground and lined them up on the stump. Then he stepped back until he was at least twenty yards away from the stump

He put his hands together and began to clap _one…two….three…._

On the fifth clap, before his hands came together he had already drawn and cocked his Colt with his right hand. The revolver bucked and a rock shattered as it was blown off the stump, before its pieces had a chance to land the next rock exploded, then another and another.

After awhile the pain from his wrist forced him to stop, the kickback from the gun was sending shockwaves through his arm.

_Crap, one gunfight I can do, but my wrist may not be able to handle a long drawn out battle._

He holstered his gun. "This might be a problem."

XXXXXXXXXXX

James Possible lay face down in bed as his wife Anne began to massage his lower back. The stress of the situation involving Avery Bronson had caused him to grow sullen.

"Cattle tracks out there? That's at least a two day ride from here," Anne said.

"Yep, I sent Kip and John to investigate the area. They said the tracks lead towards the west, Avery's spread." He sighed. "Maybe he brought a herd?"

"Yes, that's probably right," she agreed.

"I don't like this speculation Anne, I try to be a peaceful man but things are looking worse and worse. Why would Avery do such a thing?"

"It's sad what the want of money will do to a Christian."

"I'm at loss Anne."

She moved on to his shoulders, so she could lean over to his ears. "I'm sorry James but when it comes down to it, you're going to have to do what's best for the Circle C and your family. We've worked too hard to lose our ranch to rustlers."

"It's not that easy! How can I hang a man, especially a man I considered my neighbor for all these years. And what if it turns into a gunfight, how can I ask my men to risk their lives?"

"James, you know they would follow you till the ends of the earth."

James rolled over onto his back and closed his eyes. "I guess I've got no choice then. I'm going to start up a new head tally; I've got to know if we're missing anything."

"And if we are?"

"Then Avery's gone too far to come back," he said with resolve.

Anne leaned over and kissed him gently. "I know you'll make us proud."

XXXXXX

It was later that afternoon when Ron walked past the Possible's porch. His arm was still smarting from his target practice, but that pain was the furthest thing from his mind. The situation was looking grim and he was wondering how he would fight off not only Dub Wilson but also Louis the rest of his gang. Surely, they would be looking for vengeance after the fight.

_Bang_

_From behind. _

Acting entirely on instinct Ron spun quickly with his Colt out. But seconds later he came to realize there was no one behind him. In fact, he was the only one in the yard.

"I'm sorry I just couldn't resist," chuckled Anne as she stepped from the Possible doorway. "That was a Mandarin firecracker. Kim's friend Wade read about them one year and then decided to create his own. Speaking of Kim, where is she?"

It was then that Ron realized that he still had his gun drawn. The whole incident had left him dumbfounded.

"She... she decided to stay in town."

"Really," Anne stepped off the porch. "You two get along pretty well"

"We have our moments," Ron said, still slightly confused about the situation

"Can I see your wrist?" she said.

"Alright." he put out his hand so she could inspect it.

"It should be fine by next week," she smiled.

"That's good to know"

He made a movement to leave but she held on to his arm. "That was a pretty fast reaction for someone with a hurt wrist."

Ron swallowed back the knot in his throat. "I…I mean…"

"It's alright… I won't tell anyone."

Ron studied her face. He didn't know why, but he could tell she was telling the truth. Since the day he had shown up, he had gotten a familiar feeling from Anne Possible. A feeling he had thought he had long forgotten and would never feel again; a feeling of general warmth and kindness.

"Ronald, you've come to like it here, haven't you?"

"I'd like to stay here as long as I can."

"That's good… Well let me stop beating around the stump. This difficulty with Avery has made a mess out of James. He doesn't want any blood on his hands."

"I don't think any decent man would," Ron said, the irony of it tearing at him.

"James will always do what is best for the family. He will do what is right for the Circle C, but I think, in the heat of the moment, he may hesitate. That won't be a problem if Avery and his hands surrender, but if there is a gunfight, then hesitation will cost him... will cost us."

Ron looked down at the ground, and Anne cupped his face. "All I want is for James to come back alive. That's all I'm asking from you, just to watch out for him. I know you can't guarantee anything in this world but will you help him?"

Ron looked her in eyes and nodded. "I promise I'll do my best ma'am"

"Thank you," she said. "No matter what happens after this, you'll always have a place at the Circle C Ronald," she said, before leaving him alone in the yard and walking back into the house.

"Alright, no pressure," he muttered to himself.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

Seth Beechum watched passively as a spider spun its web on the windowsill of his cabin.

_It's been a few days now, my foot is feeling a little better. I should start thinking about busting Pete out. _

He limped towards the fireplace and tossed some oak kindling into it, to keep the fire going. He went outside and pulled the cover off a nearby well. He dropped a pail tied to ten feet of rope into the pit, and he leaned over the well until he heard the splash of the pail hitting water.

The sound of a twig snapping behind him sent Seth into action. He drew his Remington .44 and spun. He leveled the gun at the intruders face only to find weapon in his face. Seth had found himself in a standoff

"Seth Beechum I presume," said Will.

"You're not bringing me in lawdog!"

Will smiled. "My, my, what kind of host are you, where are your manners?"

"There at the end of this barrel Marshal, I'd be obliged to show them to you."

"My goodness Seth you blow so much smoke I'm chocking on it. I just want to talk to you."

"Sure, and I seen a hog fly yesterday. You're not taking me down…"

"Alright," shouted Betty as she stepped out behind a rock with he rifle. She aimed it at Seth. "If this pissing contest is over maybe we can get down to business. Seth Beecum, I've got you covered, please drop your weapon, or I will be forced to shoot you."

The situation had now become desperate, they got the jump on him, had no choice, Seth threw his weapon on the floor.

"Now how about the one behind your back," Will added.

Seth detached the hidden holster with the derringer that he had strapped to his back. He threw it to the ground next to his revolver.

"Very good Will."

"Thank you, alright Seth let's go into the cabin here and have a nice chat."

Suddenly Veronica and Jenkins stepped into the clearing. "Um excuse me…" Veronica began before she saw the scene. "Oh, you're busy."

"Didn't I tell you to stay hidden?"

"You're not going to leave us out here alone are you?" asked Barnaby.

"Fine, everyone in the cabin, Seth you lead."

They followed Seth into the cabin. "Make yourselves at home, mi casa es sus casa," he said mockingly.

"Now Seth, I want to ask a few questions about a man named Scarecrow?"

Seth was stunned. "Stoppable! That traitor?"

Veronica gasped and everyone turned to her. "I'm sorry, I uh saw a lizard."

"Right," Will turned to Seth. "Stoppable huh, is that his right name?"

"Shhh," Betty told them as she inspected the gunslot on the window. "Will we've got company," she said, as she raised the rifle to the slot.

"Seth, you get over on that corner so I can keep an eye on you. Everyone else, get on the floor." Will, rushed to another window.

"I know you can hear me in there," said a voice from outside. "Give us Seth Beechum and will make this quick!"

"Come on out Marshal!" said another voice. "Don't make this hard on yourself!"

"I love it when they call me Marshal"

"What's going on?" cried Veronica.

"Don't be frightened… I think we have enough ammo to fight them off."

"You think!" whimpered Jenkins from the floor.

"We'll just have to make sure we don't miss." Will broke a part of the window and prepared to fire.

"Wait Will you're forgetting something."

"What?"

"First you've got to give them a chance to surrender, remember? That's the law."

"You're right; we'll do this according to Hoyle

The eight outlaws on horseback stood a few yards outside of the cabin and prepared to open fire to the cabin

"Remember we're supposed to get Beechum alive if we can it's not really a priority, but the lawman must go," said one outlaw.

"I've wanted to blast me a lawman for a long time" said another outlaw.

"Gentleman this is I am Deputy Marshal Will Du and officer of the law! I hereby order you all to throw down your weapons and surrender! You're all under arrest!"

They laughed, one outlaw fired at the cabin. "How do you like that answer lawdog?" he laughed.

A shot was fired from the cabin and the other outlaws watched as the shot nailed the laughing man's chest sending him backwards mid laugh.

Then another shot this time from a rifle was fired, sending another flipping backwards off his saddle in a spray of red mist.

"Mierda!" cried an outlaw. "I guess he didn't like that answer."

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

The afternoon wind had blown in from the east, dry and hot, when the stranger walked into the Sunset saloon. The bar instantly became quiet; the piano player came to a slow halt. All of the patrons in the bar turned towards the stranger in the weird Lame mask.

_An example must be made._

"What the hell is this?" said Virgil Duval who was nursing a glass of whiskey at the bar.

"Step outside Duval, you and me have to talk things over."

"Me and you?" Virgil turned to some of the other El Coyote hands who were in the saloon. "Now what do we have to talk about?"

"The townspeople didn't appreciate your behavior today. We don't tolerate that kind of thing around here."

Virgil laughed. "The sheriff must have lost some weight, I can hardly recognize him. Now wait, maybe you're a town councilmen. Then I've got to tell you, I don't socialize with politicians, it's beneath me."

"If you're not coming out then I'm coming in," said the stranger, and he made his way foward.

"Don't come any closer," Virgil warned, "less you want to die of lead poisoning."

The stranger continued to walk forwards and Virgil made a move to draw, but in a show of quickness, the stranger was already on top of him. He grabbed Virgil's wrist before he could grab his gun, and twisted. Virgil cried out in pain when the stranger knocked his hat, grabbed Virgil by his hair and slammed his face into the bar. Then the stranger punched him off his stool.

Two of Virgil's partners at the bar jumped to their feet. The stranger reached for his belt and in one swift motion, tossed two pepper balls in their direction. The balls hit them right between the eyes and exploded; the pepper instantly caused their eyes to slam shut and led to uncontrollable coughing. The stranger hit one with a right hook sending him over the bar. Then he caught the other with a roundhouse kick knocking him onto a poker table, from the roundhouse he continued spinning and did a no look pepper ball toss into the face of another El Coyote cowboy.

The stranger gave him a series of punches and sent him flying into the wall. From the floor, Virgil crawled to his knees. He reached for his gun again when a strange liquid hit his holster. He pulled at the gun only to find that it was now stuck to the holster.

"Super Adhesive," the stranger said to him.

Virgil looked up just in time to see a fist coming at his face.

Josh Mankey had just purchased a new supply of paint when he saw Virgil Duval fly through the batwing doors of the sunset saloon, and the mysterious stranger walk calmly after him.

Virgil landed hard on the floor, but he quickly scrambled to his feet. He pulled a knife from his boot and charged. The stranger sidestepped the attack grabbed Virgil by the arm and gave him three quick consecutive jabs to the gut. Virgil fell back on the ground groaning from the pain.

_Who is that? I've seen that kind of fighting before._

Josh watched as Virgil attempted to crawl away, but the stranger grabbed him by the collar and dragged him towards a water trough.

"Haven't you ever heard of treating women with respect? Didn't your mother raise you properly?

Then the stranger unceremoniously dunked Virgil's head into the water trough "You and your cowboy partners have been causing too much trouble around lately."

"You…. Dirty… rotten----" Virgil sputtered.

"The next time you feel like grabbing at someone forcefully, look to your pards," he said before giving Virgil one last punch. Virgil slumped into the water and lay still.

The stranger turned the crowd of people that had gathered to see the fight. "Someone should help him out or he'll drown." The stranger walked away from the porch when Josh approached him.

"Kim, is that you?" he whispered.

The stranger became flustered. "I'm sorry son; you have me mistaken with someone else. Do I look like a filly to you?" he said with a deeper voice.

"Who are you?"

"I… I am the man with no name. Excuse me son." The stranger jetted past Josh into a nearby livery barn. Suddenly the stranger blew through the barn door on horseback riding, quickly out of town.

XXXXXXXXXXX

A few hours later

Ron leaned against the oak tree watching the sunset when he heard footsteps approaching. Then he heard someone sigh and sit on the opposite side of the tree.

"You missed dinner," he said.

"I'm sorry, I had some chores to care off," Kim replied.

"You know, you work too much, you should learn how to relax like me. Enjoy a nice siesta every once in awhile."

"Is siesta Spanish for not doing any work?"

Ron laughed as he watched the sun slowly disappear into the horizon.

"I uh… I uh… got you something." She handed him a small bag.

Ron reached into the bag and pulled out a brand new, snow-white hat. Ron found himself speechless as he placed it on his head. "It fits like a glove" he said eventually.

"You like it?"

"I love it," he said. "Thank you!"

"Good" she looked up. Night was beginning to creep into the area.

The stay quiet for a few minutes as they both reflected on the days events.

"Remember when you asked if I ever killed anyone? Would you think less of me if I had said yes?"

"Are you telling me something?"

"No… I'm just asking you a question… would you have?"

"To be honest, I'd have to say it depends."

"Depends?"

He listened as she scooted closer to him, until she was sitting next to him. "Yes, it depends."

"Hmmmm" Ron adjusted his hat. "Thanks again for the hat, KP."

"KP?"

"Oh sorry I mean K----"

"Now hold on." She paused to think about it. "KP… I like it."

They both looked leaned back against the tree looking up, the stars had blossomed in the night sky like flowers in the springtime.

* * *

A/N so there you go. I hope this tides you over for a bit. If you've any question like how did the stranger do this or that. Trust me everything will be explained in due time. In addition, I should have done this from the beginning but if you don't get any of the western slang, feel free to ask about it. Read and review of course. Once again feedback is mandatory. 


	6. Yellowbrick road

A/N First lets talk about three things.

Length; this chapter is pretty long so you'll need some time to spare (I had to force myself to stop writing) Once again there is a bit of jumping around

I'm laying down the foundation for some future storylines in this chapter, so I apologize if you get a bit lost with all that is going on.

Violence; Ok this chapter contains more violence than the previous ones. However, it is nothing to grave

Enjoy the chapter (hopefully you will)

* * *

Bullets thumped against the front side of the cabin as Betty Director dropped below the window ledge.

"Good lord," Jenkins cried as he pressed against the floor, "do something Constable."

Will fired through the window before ducking back down. "This cabin was built to hold off Apaches, we might be able to hold them off if…"

"If what?"

"If we don't run out of ammunition first" He stood and fired through the window again before dropping back to the ground. "These fools are really testing my patience."

Betty Director leveled another round into her rifle chamber. "Hold steady Will, a good officer keeps his mind clear no matter what the situation is." She aimed out the window and fired three quick shots. She stopped firing, when she heard man scream and his body fall to the ground. "But you're right, they've got the bulge on us, our ammunition is worth more than gold to us right now and we're goners if they rush us."

"Marshal," Jenkins called out, "if we are to lose, please save a bullet for Miss Walton," he said in a serious tone. "Do you understand what I am asking of you?"

It took a moment before Will realized what Barnaby meant. "What? I can't do that!"

"You must!" He shouted over the sound of flying bullets. "If worse comes to worse, you must not allow those ruffians to get a hold of her."

"Jenkins!" Veronica screamed.

"He must, it his duty as a man and an officer."

Will knew that Jenkins spoke the truth. If they were overcome, he and Jenkins would certainly be killed quickly but the women… a quick death was certainly better than the alternative.

What about Betty, would she take her own life or would he have to… how could he, she was the woman who raised him for most of his life. No, he had to, he had to be strong enough…

"Will!"

He gasped when he realized that he had been holding his breath. "Yeah?"

"Will, don't get lost on me, we need you here now!"

"Yes… right."

"Damn it." Seth Beechum crawled towards his bed. He flipped his mattress over, revealing two large bags. "I'll be dammed if die here." He reached into one of the bags and pulled out a stick of dynamite. He touched the six-inch wick of the stick to his gas lamp and turned towards the window.

"Get out of the way!"

Will and Betty ducked and braced themselves against the floor as Seth hurled the lit stick in a high arc out the window. The cabin seemed to sway backwards from the impact of the explosion.

"Do you think that got their attention?" Will shouted.

As the dust settled from the explosion, the three remaining outlaws argued amongst themselves about their next move.

"Sweet Jesus, they've got dynamite in there. If that stick had landed any closer we'd be deader than hell."

"I've had more than enough of this," said another outlaw. "If the rifle fire don't get us, the dynamite will. Fifty dollars a month just ain't enough for me to deal with dynamite."

"Yea, we lost more than half our men. If that cheap bastard Dawson wants us to do his dirty work, we best be getting some better wages."

The other outlaws agreed, spurred the horses on and rode away.

Will peeked through the window to see the outlaws riding off towards the east. "I think the dynamite did the trick, they're turning tail."

"Are you sure?" Veronica said from the floor.

"Yes," Betty answered after checking for herself. "We better move too in case they return with more men." She turned to Seth. "We're obliged for---"

"I didn't help you, I was saving my own hide," he replied with a hand full of dynamite.

"Well thanks anyway, and you can drop those now. I've still got you covered."

"Of course," he sneered as he placed the remaining dynamite back into the bag. "Anything for you Marshal."

On the other side of the room Veronica and Jenkins brushed the dust off their clothes. "Jenkins, how could you ask the Marshal to do such a thing?"

"Young Miss, it was for the best, you cannot imagine what horrors men like those are capable of."

She sighed. "I appreciate your concern Jenkins, but I'm well aware of what men like those can do."

Will turned away from their conversation and turned to Betty "I…"

"I'm sure you would have done the right thing."

"Yeah, I would have," he lied to her, as he silently cursed himself showing a moment of weakness. "I would have."

"Now back to you," Betty said. "About Stoppable, we heard he's a good friend of yours."

Seth spat on the ground. "That traitor ain't no friend of mine."

"Didn't you two ride together as outlaws?"

Seth folded his arms. "Maybe we did."

"Liar!" Veronica shouted at him "He would neve---" she stopped mid-sentence. "I'm sorry, that was a bit rude of me, go on with your conversation."

Will and Betty glanced at each other.

"Right," Will said.

A smile came to Seth's face. "Well gook luck finding him. I'm of the opinion he ain't in _Texas _anymore."

"So you do know where he is."

"I might, but being on the run from the law sure takes a toll on man. Worrying about jail can make a man forgetful."

Will and Betty glanced at each other again.

"Let's make a deal."

"How about if I decorate these walls with your brain," Will threatened.

Seth opened his arms wide, "Go ahead Marshal, I'm a true outlaw. I'm ready to die at any moment."

"What do you want?" Betty asked.

"Just get me out of Texas and I'll tell you what rock Stoppable is hiding under. Oh, and I get to keep the money I stole."

Will made a move to pistol whip Seth across the head when Betty pulled him back. "So you're sure you know where Stoppable is?"

"It's very likely he's where I think he is. If he ain't there now he had to have gone there at some point. I've been meaning to seek him out myself, put a bullet in his back for what he did," he looked at Will, "but seeing as he's a wanted man, I'll let the law work for me this time."

"All we have to do is get you out of Texas?"

"Yes."

"Are we sure we can trust him?" Will whispered to Betty.

"We've got no choice, without him we've got nothing."

Will leered at Seth, she was right. No matter how much he hated dealing with a criminal they had no choice. Seth and Stoppable were just stepping-stones to a greater, more important prize.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXX

Two days later

_Draw._

_Cock the hammer as it swings up towards you._

_Aim for the target, heart, head, arms or legs._

_Squeeze the trigger._

_Anticipate the recoil; cock the hammer. _

_Aim._

_Squeeze the trigger._

_Draw, hammer, aim, squeeze, anticipate, hammer, aim, squeeze._

Ron repeated the mental exercise in his head repeatedly; he imagined the kick of the gun and the smell of gunfire. Although it could never replace the practice of actually firing a gun, the mental practice helped to the point where he could draw without thinking. It had almost become second nature to him, that is if shooting a man was considered a natural act.

"Cooley!"

Ron came out of his mental daze.

"That's the most focused I've ever seen him," someone said.

"Focused or offish?"

Ron turned his attention to his fellow cowhands. The eight of them were now standing on Chick Moore's property, the Bar B ranch. In the house, a few yards away, James Possible and Chick Moore were discussing their next move. They had a decision to make and it would affect the lives of everyone involved.

"This isn't the time to be staring off like some dang fool," John said to Ron.

"You reckon we're gonna have to fight?" Billy asked.

John looked at him incredulously. "Billy, a boy your age shouldn't be a fool."

"I'm not a fool."

"Well excuse me but you sure do ask fool questions."

"He's right Billy, they stole some of our stock. If we don't do something, every rustler on this side of the Rio will think the Circle C is an easy target. James Possible is no tenderfoot. He's a man who's been through the mill, he'll do the right thing."

Billy just shook his head.

"This is a something a lot of cowhands have to face. Whenever there's cattle, there's sure to be some stealin," Stanly Colbert said with finality.

Ron was standing next to his horse when it nicked him slightly. It did so whenever a stranger approached. This immensely valuable trait had saved Ron's life more than once out in the badlands.

He turned to the approaching man. "Look what the wolves dragged in, its Willis Durant," exclaimed Bo Taggert.

"Who is Willis Durant?" Ron asked Billy.

"He's the Bar B foreman."

"So what's the good word Willie?"

"Word is not in yet, but I'd be shocked if we were not riding into Avery's place real soon." He looked at Ron. "Who's this?"

"This is our new hand Ron Cooley," John answered.

"This young looking shave tail, he's still between hay and grass."

"Hey now," said Bo, "he may be a good for nothing lazy son of---"

"Ok," Ron said.

"----- but he can bake a mean doughnut. And to me, a good bear sign is more valuable than gold."

"Yep, he's a cook to the manner born," Kip agreed. "Plus, nobody can make fun of him 'cept us."

Ron sighed. "I'm obliged fellas."

"Man, what's going on in there? I want to wiggle on back to town and speak to Amelia."

Stanly rolled his eyes. "You know, I'm tired of your namby-pamby attitude Billy. Thinking about things like your gal is not going to help you during a gun fight."

"Bo, I've seen you shoot," Willis began, "why don't you give your boys some pointers?"

"Shooting cans ain't the same as shooting a man, there's nothing I could say to these men to prepare them for that. I've never killed a man which is something queer, considering how many bad men I used to ride with."

"Did you ever meet any famous gunmen?" Antonio asked.

Bo mulled the question over. "Many years back, in Topeka, I saw Fast Timothy Murdoch shoot two men down before their hands could reach their pistol butts."

Billy's eyes opened wide. "Wow, Timothy Murdoch, was he really fast?"

Bo laughed. "They wouldn't call him Fast Timothy Murdoch if he wasn't fast."

"See what I said about the fool questions," John told them.

Antonio spoke up. "When I was a boy, just hearing Murdoch's name would have men shaking in their boots. Some say he was the fastest gun ever, a true demon."

"They say he started killing the second he got a hold of a gun. The most cold blooded killer to ever walk the plains," Willie added.

"Timothy Murdoch was a great man."

They all turned towards Ron who stared off into the countryside. "Timothy Murdoch didn't start off as a gunmen, he was a bunko artist, who at the age of eighteen wandered from town to town cheating his way towards a small fortune. His legend began when he cheated Quick Charlie Tucker out of his 'hard earned' money. Quick Charlie and two of his friends tried to dry gulch Timothy in the middle of the night. Quick Charlie lived up to his name and he pulled on Timothy before he could even think of grabbing for his gun."

"So how did he survive?" Billy asked

"Charlie missed. Somehow, even though he was no more than eight feet away from Timothy, he missed. Seeing this as an opportunity Timothy dropped Quick Charlie before he could cock his hammer again. Charlie's friends were so shocked to see him killed; they did not notice Timothy aiming for them; three shots, three bodies on the ground in less than a minute, not bad for a man who had never fired a gun before."

Ron paused for a moment. "Unfortunately for Timothy, there were a couple of witnesses who had seen the incident, from across the street in the dark. By the time he left town in the morning, Timothy was unknowingly a legend in the making."

"The failed ambush scared Timothy so bad he practiced drawing and shooting whenever he had free time. But by killing Quick Charlie, he'd made himself a target to anyone who wanted to make a name as a fast gunslinger. The next four men Timothy killed were gunfighters who tried to ambush him. He was being watched everywhere he went. So Timothy started to study how people acted towards him. Wherever he went, he paid close attention to shifty eyes, twitching shoulders, and shallow breathing. It got to a point where he could tell if someone was going to draw before they did. It didn't take long before he started to live up to his name. He killed seven more men before he retired, all of them in self-defense."

"Retired?" said Willis. "He never retired from gun slinging."

"Yes he did, he disappeared when he got married. He thought he had left all the fighting behind him."

"So what happened?" Bo asked.

"They killed his wife. A group of outlaws found out where he lived and came looking for him while he was away buying farming tools. When he got back home, he found his wife dead and his house burned. Fast Timothy Murdoch was not a person you want to anger. He killed twelve men by the time he ended his vengeance trail. Then he was truly a living legend, he was too famous to disappear anymore. So he just kept drifting, drifting and fighting, always living up to the name Fast Timothy Murdoch."

"Wait a minute," said Stanley Colbert when Ron stopped, "how do you know some much about Murdoch, have you met the man?"

Ron blinked. "Nah, but I've drifted from town to town myself, so I hear a lot."

"Bah," said Bo, "you've probably heard nothing but scuttlebutt; you wouldn't know Timothy Murdoch from Adam."

Ron nodded. "You're probably right."

"Here they come!" Billy shouted.

Everyone turned to see Chick and James step out of the house. Most of them rushed over to hear the news, Ron lagged behind. He was in no rush to hear what he already knew.

_Draw, hammer, aim, squeeze, anticipate, hammer, aim, squeeze_

XXXXXXXXXXX

Chick and James had decided the attack would be in two days. Chick and his men would gather all the ammunition they would need. All James and his cowhands had to do was meet up with them two days later.

They were riding home when James Possible rode up next to Ron. "Cooley, if you don't ride with us I won't hold it against you," James said to him suddenly.

"What?"

"You're a young man… you have so much to live for. A whole world to look forward too---"

"Billy isn't that much older than me," Ron interrupted.

"Billy has been with us for along time, you've only been with us a few weeks. It wouldn't be fair for me to ask you to risk your life."

"To be honest with you sir, I've thought about leaving. But if there is anything good about me, it's that I'm loyal."

"Please reconsider; you've no reason to fight for me."

"Actually…" Ron paused to think, "I do… have more than enough reasons to help. I am sorry sir, but you have my gun whether you want it or not."

"Just do one thing for me," Mr Possible said after a moment of silence. "Don't tell Kim about this."

"What… why?"

James chuckled. "If I know anything about that daughter of mine, she'd probably ride with us."

Ron smiled to himself. "You're probably right, you have my word, I won't say a thing."

"Thank you… you're a good man Ronald, the world needs more good men."

James gigged his horse forward until he was well ahead of his cowhands. Realizing that he wanted to be alone the group kept their distance, but they crowded around Ron.

"What did the boss have to say?" John asked.

"He's worried about me, since I haven't been here long. He thinks I have no reason to fight for the ranch."

John smiled. "That sounds like James alright, he's right though. You've no real obligation to us. If you were smart you'd be out of town by morning."

"If I was smart huh? I knew I should have stayed in school for a reason."

Bo laughed. "Tell you what Cooley, we're thinking about throwing a little fiesta in town tomorrow, me and the boys here will help you get your ashes hauled."

"What?"

"You know, warm your belly on a woman's back."

Once again they had managed to turn Ron's entire face beet red. "What are you saying?" he shouted back. "I can't do that!"

"Count me out fellas, Amelia's the only one for me."

"No one invited you anyhow," Stanly said before turning to Bo. "Now don't tease the boy, you know he has his sights set on the young lady Possible"

"Sigh, young love is so difficult. Then again, most things involving females are," John continued.

"It isn't like that!"

"Oh really, than what's the problem?" He winked at Bo. "You aren't the type of fella that likes fellas are you?"

"No! It's just that… you know… I kind of want… my first time… to be… special," he said sheepishly.

There was brief silence as the cowboys looked back and forth between each other, and then suddenly it came, a torrent of loud laughter.

"'I want my first time to be special,'" Kip repeated in a falsetto voice.

Bo and Stanly laughed so hard no one would have been surprised if they fell of their horses.

"Oh dear God," John wiped a tear from his eye, "that was rich."

"He was so serious too," Kip laughed.

Ron pushed his horse forward. "Don't be surprised if you idiots find beetles in your breakfast," he growled at them.

Bo slapped his knees. "Oh damn Cooley, you better survive this fight, life just wouldn't be as fun without you."

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

Virgil Duval wiped the sweat from his bruised face with his sleeve. "it's hotter than the devil's backside today."

Curly Thomas sighed. "Virgil, what are we doing out here?"

"What are we doing out he----" he smacked Curly with his hat. "Fool, don't you see my face, you think I would let something like this slide"

"But Louis told us not to bother the townsfolk anymore, if he finds out---"

"I don't care what Louis said, I have my pride as a man. I can't let something like this stand."

"Yeah, you got your plow cleaned right?" Cray Shaw laughed.

Virgil stared darkly Cray forcing him to shut up. "Just get that boy off the horse so I can talk to him."

Cray turned to a horse where an unconscious Josh Mankey lay face down on the saddle; He pulled him down off the saddle onto the floor.

"Wake him up," Virgil ordered, "but don't hit him in the face." He watched eagerly as Cray sent a well-placed kick into Josh's stomach.

Josh sputtered to life gasping for air. Virgil crouched next to him drew his pistol and placed it on Josh's temple.

"We're far enough from town where no one will hear a gun shot. Now tell me what I want to know"

"What do you want from me?"

Curly laughed. "Look at his hands shake. I bet if he tried to take a piss right now he'd hurt himself."

"People saw you acting real familiar with the 'stranger'. I was just wondering if you have any idea on who he is."

Josh gulped. "I don't know who the stranger is."

"Really?" Virgil cocked the hammer. "Are you sure?"

"I said I don't know!"

"You don't know?"

"I'm sorry but… I don't."

"Hurry about and shoot him Virgil, I'm liable to get heatstroke out here," whimpered Curly.

Virgil stood motionless for a moment than he stood up. "Alright boy, get up and ride out of here, my interest in you has fallen below the horizon."

Josh slowly stood up. "Really?"

"Yeah beat it, but if the Sheriff catches wind of this, the boys and I'll have to introduce ourselves to your family."

"You're not going to shoot me in the back, are you?"

"I said get the hell out of here."

Josh ran towards the horse that carried him here, mounted it and headed in the direction of the town.

"That boy is a terrible liar."

"What? Then why did you let him go?" Cray asked.

"He knows who the stranger is but he wasn't going to tell us."

"So what do we do?"

"You two are going to follow him. That boy will definitely try to warn the 'stranger' and I want to know who he talks to."

"Who made you the boss?" Cray asked.

"Yeah why should we do what you want?"

"Because I have seniority, now will you two stop bellyaching and get riding, he's getting away."

Cray and Curly grumbled to themselves as they mounted their horses.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

Kim paced back and forth through the kitchen. "Alright, where's the cornmeal?"

"Honey," said Anne Possible, "what are you doing?"

"I'm baking a cake."

"A cake? But your father and the boys won't be back until late tonight."

She opened a canister and found that it was empty. "This is a practice cake mother. Tomorrow, I'll bake the real one tomorrow."

"What's tomorrow?"

"Tomorrow is Ron's birthday. He's been down about it for a few days so I thought this would cheer him up."

"Oh," Anne stated "Ohhhhh…"

Kim looked at he mother. "What's that's supposed to mean?"

"Nothing."

Kim opened another canister. "Mother, is this salt or sugar?"

Anne looked inside. "That's flour."

"What?" she tasted it. "You're right, why couldn't I tell the difference? I don't understand it...cooking doesn't look that hard when he does it."

"Kimmie, calm down"

"Wait, do we have any lard?"

"Uh Kim, I don't think you should put lard in a cake."

"Ok, what about cinnamon? Cinnamon is good, right?"

"Yes, I think cinnamon would do nicely."

Kim rushed to the cupboards in search of cinnamon.

Anne took a seat on a kitchen table. "You really like Ron, don't you?"

"Yeah he's a…" she paused as she searched for the right words, "Yes an odd stick, he's very different than anyone else around here."

"Different…interesting"

"Yeah, aside from how silly he acts most of the time, I notice something new about him almost every day, like the way he dresses himself."

"How so?"

"Well for one thing, most people when leaving the house, almost always put their hats on first. Ron puts his gunbelt and holster on first."

Anne was speechless.

"Looks like we're out of cinnamon, I'm going to town to get some more."

"Kim you don't have to rush---"

Kim was already out of the door before she could finish. She watched as Kim rode her horse towards the town. "Ah youth."

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

Sheriff Barkin adjusted his hat and approached Old man Lunsford's house. "Mighty hot today."

"Then why are you out here bothering me then?"

Barkin smiled. "We have some new proprietors coming to town. They're opening up a new saloon in town."

Lunsford's eyes lit up. "A new saloon? This is the first I've heard of it."

"What are you talking about, haven't you noticed that new building on the far side of town? It was built a month ago."

"Really?"

"Haven't you noticed the supplies that were being delivered to it for the past few weeks?"

"Can't say that I have"

"You probably haven't noticed because you're always roistered up."

"Now hold on Sheriff, don't belittle a man's hobbies. Why don't you have bend an elbow with me once in awhile. That'll change your tune."

"I'll have to pass; whiskey and the law just don't mix."

Lunsford looked around; he spoke when he thought it was safe. "Avery's boy have been a might skittish ever since Duval took that beating. They've been asking around about the stranger. Tch I don't know how Avery gets any work done, most of his boys spend all their time in town drinking."

"If you ask me, Duval got what he deserved."

Lunsford was surprised. "So you're not looking for the stranger?"

"Middlewood is constantly growing, and with this peg leg of mine it's getting harder and harder to keep order around here, so why would I be bothered by someone who's helping keep the peace. So far, the stranger is not really kicking up a row. As long as the stranger keeps it civil, I don't see the harm."

"If you're so fond of the stranger, why don't you deputize him?"

"Unfortunately old man there are some things this world just ain't ready for."

"Sounds like you know more than you're letting on Sheriff."

"The real problem around here," Barkin said changing the subject, "isn't the stranger. It's Avery's bunch that worries me. As long as Avery keeps them under control… things will be fine… but…"

"Morning Sheriff," Kim said as she rode into town.

"Laws, it's good to see you, Kimberly. How are the family?"

"They're fine, thanks for asking."

"Tarnations! Looks like we're being invaded," Lunsford exclaimed.

As many as six stagecoaches and ten riders entered the town from the north. Barkin waved them down and they came to a stop. One stagecoach stopped directly in front Lunsfords house. The stagecoach driver stepped down from his horse and opened the stagecoach door.

"I swear, I had no idea it could get this hot in Colorado." A young black woman in a petticoat wiped her face with a wet rag and stepped down out of the stagecoach. She giggled. "I was told by now Colorado would be colder than miners backside."

Barkin stepped forward. "Miss Alexander?"

Kim stepped off her horse. "Welcome to Middlewood Miss Alexander, I'm Kimberly Possible."

She looked at Kim. "Don't bother with the formalities hon, just call me Monique. Hmm, you're a pretty thing aren't you. If you ever need a job darling don't be afraid to ask."

"Huh?"

"Miss Alexander is opening a new saloon here in Middlewood."

"Not just a saloon sheriff," she said, "there will be poker tables, black jack tables, faro tables, pool tables, roulette, stage shows with singers and all the best acts in the old and new states. Folks will come from miles around to visit Monique's Club Banana Saloon. I daresay sheriff, you give me a few years, and Middlewood will be as big as Denver."

"I'm looking forward to it."

"What about the drinks?" Lunsford asked.

Monique flashed a confident smile. "The Club Banana Saloon will sell the most boss whiskey in the west."

"Oh thank the heavens."

Monique looked at Kim. "Honey, I must say, I love the dress."

"Really?" Kim looked down at her clothes. "I thought they were kind of ragged."

Monique shook her head. "Ragged? They look gorgeous on you dear, where did you get it?"

"The Rockwaller general store is also a millinery, they usually get shipments from Paris every few months or so."

"Please lead the way, I need to lose these sweaty clothes."

"Kim!"

"Honey, I think someone is calling for you."

Kim turned towards the sound of the voice to see Josh running towards her.

"Josh, what's wrong?"

Monique nudged her. "Hey now, if the rest of the men here are as good looking as him, then I know I'll like here."

"Kim we need to talk!" he said as he stopped to catch his breath, "but not here."

Kim could see the panic in his eyes she turned to Monique. "Excuse me but---"

"Don't worry, you go right ahead."

"Thank you," she said as Josh grabbed her by the arm and started to lead her away.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

"Josh, I'm telling you I'm not the stranger, I don't know what you're talking about."

"Kim please, this is serious. When the stranger fought, he moved just like you did that night."

"Josh I'm sorry, but you're wrong."

"Kim, these men are dangerous, I thought they would kill me. If they even think you're the stranger they'll probably kill you. You have to get out of town---"

Josh stopped short when the doors of the livery barn flew open and Curly Thomas and Cray Shaw swaggered in.

"Well now, what do we have here?" Cray smiled.

Curly laughed. "Yea, is this a private honeymoon or can anyone else join?"

"We were just leaving." This time Kim grabbed Josh by the hand and led him towards the door.

Cray stepped forward to cut her off. He put his hand on her shoulder. "Lord honey, you don't have to run so soon. I won't eat ya… but I'd like to…"

Kim snatched Cray's hand off her shoulder and gave it a twist. "I'm flattered but vagrants aren't my type."

Cray winced from the pain and pulled his arm away. "Why you…"

"What's going on in here?" asked the barn owner as he stepped into sight.

"Nothing, we just having a chat," Curly called out to him.

"Actually, we were just leaving." She pushed past Curly and Cray with Josh following closely behind her.

"Damn that gal is full of nothing but venom," Cray muttered as he massaged his hand.

Curly ran his fingers across his beard. "You don't reckon that…"

"Naw," Cray said, "it couldn't be, the strangers a man right?"

"I reckon he is. Still, should we bring it up to Virgil."

"If you want to tell Virgil Duval that you think he got the daylight beaten out of him by a woman, then you can go right ahead. But I prefer my head lead-free."

"Yeah, you're right, let's get out of here."

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

"Kim, I haven't seen you for a long spell," Wade said as they sat in a corner table at Middlewood's only restaurant.

"I've been a little busy."

"Hanging out with your drifter friend?"

Kim cocked an eyebrow. "That's part of it… is that a problem?"

"No, no problem, I like the guy, he's a goofy sort of fellow."

"Wade, I'd like to thank you for sneaking El Diablo back to the ranch."

"What are friends for?"

She lowered her voice. "I'm of the opinion that the stranger might be making another appearance."

"What, today?"

"No, not today, but soon, when they least expect it."

"That's good because I need some time to slip some extra horses into town for the stranger to 'steal'."

"Thanks again Wade, I don't know what I'd do without you."

"You'd probably be bored."

XXXXXXXXXXXXX

Later that night

Hours after the sun had gone down, Ron sat alone in the glow of the lamplight and he took his Colts apart. He cleaned every moving piece, wiping each part with a soft white cloth before reassembling each weapon. After reassembling the weapon, he placed the gun next to his ear and turned the cylinder slowly, listening to the soft click of metal on metal.

With that done, he examined each new cartridge he had purchased and loaded them into the pistol. He stood up placed the guns back into holster and he drew.

"Look out pard you're covered," he said to his horse.

The horse looked up at him for a moment and grunted.

"Ow," Ron grabbed his chest in mock pain, "you got me pard. Who would've thunk a horse would be the fastest gun in the west."

He stopped when he realized the horse wasn't paying attention. "Aww, you're no fun tonight."

He grabbed the lamp. "Good night! Parting is such sweet sorrow, that I shall say good night...how's that go...oh yeah...that I shall say good night til it be morrow...that means "night, pard" in Shake a spear talk" he said to the horse before walking out of the barn.

A moment later, he was climbing into bed in the bunkhouse when someone whispered his name in the darkness.

"Ron, is that you?"

"Billy, you're still up?"

"Yeah it's me… I just can't get to sleep. I'm too worried about the fight…" he paused. "What about you?"

"I never go near big rocks cuz there might be mountain lions hiding behind them. I'm always worried about riding my horse too fast, in case he runs into a snake and bucks me off. When I heard about a gent in England who died when a stone of fire fell from the sky and hit his house, I spent a month looking up at the sky every minute or so. I've never slept peacefully on the ground. Not because its uncomfortable and cold as hell, but I'm afraid a scorpion might crawl into my ear. So I reckon you could say that I'm always worried," Ron answered.

"So how do you get rid of the fear?"

"You don't get rid of it… you just deal with it."

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

Sheriff Ken Towers grunted as he took a swig from his flask. The bottom half of his face was hidden under the shadow of his flat brim hat "Son, if you talk to me like that again, you'll find yourself bucking the devils horse before you know it."

The young messenger began to shake under the imposing gaze of the legendary lawman. "I'm sorry sir, I had to ride my fastest horse half to death to get he---"

Towers put his feet up on his desk, ran his finger across his modest handlebar mustache. "That outlaw dog Payton Dawson sure has a lot of sand in his craw, to come at me like this."

"I'm sorry sir, but this is what I've been told. The group is likely headed out of Texas and since Cryer Creek is on the border of Texas and The Oklahoma territory…"

"I know where my town is son."

"Of course you do, its just we reckon that they'll pass through here…"

Ken jerked the Remington out of his belt and cocked it. "Get the hell out."

"What?"

"And if I see or hear that you're still in town, I'll take it that you're calling me out into the street."

Not needing to be told the twice, the messenger quickly ran for the door.

Towers placed his Remington on the desk, took another gulp from his flask and emptied it. Through the redness of his eyes, he saw the silent figure of Barney Director standing near the door.

"Director you idealistic bastard, I warned you. I told you not to trifle with Coover and Dawson."

The figure stood silent.

"But you wouldn't listen. You had to be the perfect officer didn't you. You had the nerve to think you could save the world on your own and now look at you."

He threw the glass against the door with all the strength he could muster.

"You can't win em all Director. I tried to tell you that but you wouldn't listen. Sometimes you have to just let things be, ya damned fool!"

He watched the figure dissipate before his eyes.

"I hope to god your boy has more sense than you do."

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

_**"I'm afraid it's true. Bad smash, you just missed being club-footed."**_

**_It was a freak accident, the horse was sick and it collapsed on top of him. Some say he was lucky to have survived. He didn't see it that way_. **

**For the second time in his life Felix felt helpless. ****From the second floor window of his hotel, Felix Renton watched as his friend squared off in the middle of the stree. The clouds were slate gray in the night sky, rain was coming. **

**"Goose is dead he gave you up before he died." ****Ron said through the bandanna that covered his face up to his eyes**

**"Doesn't surprise. Goose was the redemption seeking type" Shem**** offered a weak smile. **

**Ron didn't make a move as he stared Shem**** down, the gun game wasn't only about speed and accuracy, there was a mental aspect to it. Everyone knew a scared man couldn't shoot straight.**

**"Let's get to it," Shem said as lightning streaked across the sky.** "**Start counting." **

"**One…"**

"**Two…" **

**"Three--"  
**

**Shem**** attempted to draw to no avail. He saw Colt come up from Ron's holster, a mix of metal and gleaming moonlight; then he saw the explosion from the gun barrel and he felt the impact of the bullet raise him up and backwards.**

**"Dammit boy so fast. You much come straight outta hell." She said his lips bloody with a pink ooze. "I'm sorry kid"**

**"What?" Ron said incredulously.**

**"You don't have to forgive me. I just needed to say it."**

**Ron swallowed the lump in his throat "You got kin I should notify?"**

**"That's right decent of you. More than I deserve I suppose. However I burnt all them bridges long ago" Shem took in a ragged breath. Then he shuddered, closed his eyes and dies without saying under word**

**Ron took one step forward. He took another step before he lost it and threw up.** "**Dammit Murdoch, I thought you said it would get easier." He heaved again. **

**He wiped the morning's breakfast from his mouth with one sleeve, and his tears with the other. He glanced at the body once and shuffled past it. He staggered across the boardwalk when he heard the sound of shuffling feet, then the faint click of hammer being cocked. He turned quickly recognizing a threat immediately.**

**His Colt came up from the holster so fast; it startled Felix, even though he had Ron in his sights. **

**Two shots fired, the first shot whizzed past Ron's head knocking his hat off. The second shot smacked into Felix's shoulder knocking him back into the dirt street.**

**Felix groaned and rolled in the dirt. **

"**Who are you?" Ron said as he cocked his pistol again, letting Felix hear it.**

"**You… killed Shem****… you" he coughed "… you killed him!" **

**Ron turned back to Shem****'s body. "I reckon you don't want to hear what your friend did." **

**Felix reached for the Navy Colt he was carrying, but Ron kicked the gun away.**

"**Sorry, I can't get give you second chance…" **

**Felix rolled onto his stomach. "I'm sorry Shem****… if it wasn't for my damn leg… I'm useless."**

**If one was to survive as a gunmen for long, one would learn quickly that it was unwise to leave anyone alive who could come back after you thirsty for vengenace. Ron aimed the Colt at Felix's head, but held the pose for a minute or so. **

**Suddenly from the darkness, Seth Beechum appeared with two horses. "What's taking so long?" **

"**You better kill me," Felix gasped. "If you don't, I swear I'll hunt you down like a dog." **

**Ron didn't move.**

"**What are you waiting for?" **

**Ron looked into Felix's face. "Because he was a killer, I killed Shem****, because I killed Shem****. You want to kill me; I'm wondering when will it end?" He holstered his Colt after another pause.**

"**What are you doing?" Felix shouted when Ron made a move to leave. He grabbed him by the foot. "I don't cotton to charity damn it! Why won't you shoot, because I'm a cripple?"**

**Ron pulled his foot away. "Why would I want to waste a bullet on a back shooting coward like you?" Even in the darkness, he could see the shock on Felix's face.**

**Seth and Ron mounted their horses. "So Scarecrow, are we leaving now?" **

"**First I reckon we have to wake up the town doctor." He turned to Felix and pulled off his bandanna, revealing his face. "When you're ready to come at me face to face, than come and find me. I'll be waiting." **

XXXX

Present day

"Yes, we've seen him," the bartender said to Felix. "He rode through here not to long ago… but…" the bartender turned to his young waitress, "he's a good man, he saved Molly here. I'm obliged to that man."

Felix smiled. "So I reckon you won't tell me where he went than?" He nodded. "I guess I can respect that." Felix tipped his hat to them both.

"Hold on," Molly said to him, "he's not a criminal, he's a hero… whatever he's done before I don't care… he saved my life."

Felix nodded again. "I've been on this man's trail for awhile now, and that's not the first time I've heard he was a hero."

"So why are you still chasing after him?" Molly said.

"General Sherman was a hero to the Yanks, but ask those living in the Georgia and they'll tell you he's a monster." Felix left two coins on the bar counter to pay for his drinks.

Scarecrow's name was spreading from town to town. He was becoming more and more famous as his story continued to be told and exaggerated upon. He had managed to elude infamy so far, but he could not run from his name forever.

One day, everyone would know his name, and then it would be impossible to disappear. And that day was coming soon, Felix could feel it.

He had a smile on his face when he walked through the batwings onto the boardwalk, only to be met by two men on the street, one with a rifle, the other with a shotgun.

"What going on here fellas?" Felix stated.

"We heard there was a famous bounty hunter in town, so we assumed he was after us."

"But I never thunk we'd be looking at a little lame fellar. Who ever heard of a crippled bounty hunter?"

Felix shook his head. "Have you heard never to judge a man by his looks."

Molly dropped a glass onto the floor when she heard the two shots coming from outside. Then she and the bartender rushed towards the door. Just in time to see Felix put his gun away.

"What happened?" Molloy cried when she saw the two bodies lying in the streets.

"Self-defense… they underestimated me… but then again, I've yet to meet a outlaw who didn't."

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

The next day

_Come to the Club Banana Saloon_

Ron read the letter again and chuckled to himself. "Her handwriting is dreadfully pretty."

It was only a single sentence, but it had been written beautifully. In contrast, his own writing was often compared to chicken scratch.

He was standing outside of Doctor White's office after another checkup on his wrist. He looked up at the sky; the sun was at its zenith.

"Hey, you shouldn't sneak up on people like that, you might get yourself shot… by accident," Ron said to no one in particular.

Lin Norris appeared from the shadows of an alleyway and stepped onto the boardwalk. "Got some trouble with you hand there Scarecrow?"

"Naw," Ron grinned, "doc says I'm in apple pie order."

"Good, because Louis requires your presence right now"

"Hmmm… and what if I say no?"

"Then I'm going to have to bulldoze you over to the meeting."

Ron ran his hands across the back of his head. "I'm really down on being bulldozed. Lead the way amigo."

Ten minutes later, Ron found himself in the sunset saloon, sitting across the table from Louis Wilson as he dealt him a hand of cards.

"Well now _Cooley, _how come you never come over and bend an elbow with me and the boys? The way you act, you make a fella start thinking he smells bad."

Ron collected his cards. "I tend to keep to myself."

Louis glanced at Lin Norris and Willie Caldwell, who sat in a circle around them. "You hear that boys, he tends to keep to himself."

They laughed.

Louis turned back to Ron. "My brother is real anxious to fight, he's been practicing day and night on his draw."

"Bully for him." Ron looked at his cards and sighed disappointingly. "I really hope he gets good."

"I was thinking it would be a real shame if my brother killed you---"

Ron slapped himself in the forehead. "Goodness, I was just thinking the same. Isn't that the damndest thing?"

"Me and the boys are tired of rustling. We're thinking of something of the more exciting variety."

"You're going to be blacksmiths?"

"No," Louis said, visibly annoyed. "Bank robbing...and any good gang should have more than one gunslinger riding with them."

_Bank robbing? He has no idea that his gang's days were numbered._

"Too bad Middlewood has no other gunmen, but uh, maybe you could try Dodge City."

"I'm offering you the chance of a lifetime. With a famous gunmen like yourself riding along side us we can really raise some hell."

"All that soft solder won't get you anywhere, I'm not that famous. Besides what would your brother think?"

"My brother thinks what I want him to think."

"What a loving relationship." Ron made a move to get up. "I'll have to pass."

Lin Norris got up and pushed Ron down back in his seat.

"What's the problem here Cooley? You were once an outlaw right? Bank robbing should be right up your alley. Think of the fun, think of the adventure. You can't possibly want to stay in this pit-stain town."

"Actually, I don't think it's that bad here."

"Oh, I get what this is about, you've fallen ass over elbows for the red headed gal. You are really wanting to keep her, huh?"

Ron chuckled. "Wanting to keep her, you make her sound like a horse."

Louis shook his head. "She ain't your kind, she ain't our kind."

Ron narrowed his eyes. "And what's our kind?"

Louis's eyes dropped back to his cards. "I hope you reconsider before its too late _Cooley_, my brother is a crack shot. Ace-high flush, read em and weep."

"The thing about being a crack shot is that it don't mean a thing if you're not fast enough to clear leather before the man before you does." Ron spread his cards on the table. "Full house. I win."

He got up and tipped his hat. "Sorry boys, but I've got to be going."

"Hold on Cooley, what if the girl wasn't around any more? Would you have any reason to stay?"

Ron froze. "What? Kim… the Possible's have nothing to do with this."

There was no reason for him to be angry. Tomorrow Louis and his gang would pay for their crimes. There was no reason to add fuel to the fire now.

"Don't they now… I think they do. For one thing, they're getting in the way of our business transaction." He licked his lips. "But now that I think about, I wouldn't want to leave town either. Well, not before taking the red head for a ride in the hayloft."

Ron closed his eyes…

"Supposing I say after I did that, I make the Possible's disappear. Now you wouldn't have any reason to stay right?"

Ron bristled and opened his eyes. "If it ever came to that than I reckon I'll die in this town." He let his eyes trail over the three men. "But I won't be going alone."

"You'll what?" Lin Norris jumped out of his seat. "No one refuses an offer from Louis Wilson…" he reached for his gun, "…I have half a mind to--- "

Lin stopped when he caught a look at Ron's eyes, eyes that had lost all expression. The look unnerved the outlaw to the point that he felt frozen on the spot.

"Just you wait," Lin stammered, "your time will come, Dub will see to that."

Ron watched Lin's hands raise away from his holster, and he deftly uncocked the hammer of his colt that he unknowingly raised an inch out his holster.

"Sit down Lin." Louis placed his hands under his chin. "You see that _Cooley,_ you're ready to kill and die at a drop of a hat, that's what makes you different from a normal citizen. Different from everyone in the Possible clan. We live by a different set of rules, that's what makes us different."

"I'm sorry about that fellas, that's why I don't gamble. Often it gets my blood excited. Good talking to you." Ron turned and quickly rushed for the exit.

Louis grinned. "What happened Lin? He beat you without firing a shot."

"Lord Jesus, I looked into his eyes and it was like I was already dead."

"Dub has a right to be excited, that man is a Simon pure gunman."

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

The Club Banana Saloon was a two-story building. Both floors were well lighted, and there was a bar along one whole side of the room. A roulette wheel, pool tables, and dozens of tables covered with green felt for poker and black jack occupied the rest of the room. And a fiddle band strung out a tune on the stage.

_I wonder what is keeping Ron? _Kim thought, as she watched her father's employees enjoy themselves with gambling, among other things. Upon hearing it was Ron's birthday, they had decided on their own that this was the place to celebrate. They seemed to be enjoying themselves immensely, even though the guest of honor was nowhere to be seen.

Kim glanced at the woman dressed in flowing gowns carrying drinks to tables. "These waitresses are a little under dressed, don't you think?" she said to Monique.

Monique wiped down a shot glass with a cotton cloth. "Let me tell you a little something sweetie, these girls help take a man's mind off how much he losses at the tables… or how much he's about to lose anyway."

"Isn't that a little unethical?"

"Unethical, or good business, it could go either way in my book."

"Monique you're not much older than me, how did you get the money for this place?"

"Jonathan Wright, the wealthiest man in Tennessee. My family 'served' his family for years and all it took was for my daddy to save his daughter for us to get a reward for our years of 'good service'. But I had my fill of the Old States, so I got my pa to lend my some money and here I am," She spread her arms wide, "the owner of a grand saloon."

"It's a beautiful place," Kim said before glancing back at the door and sighing.

"Are you waiting for someone, maybe that handsome boy you were with earlier?"

"No, I'm waiting for a friend of mine today is his birthday."

Ron entered the saloon to the cheers of his bunkmates. "Hey what's going on here?"

"Well hello birthday boy." A young woman strutted up to Ron until her body was just inches away from his.

"Ah, hello ma'am, uh… how did you know it was my birthday?"

"Your friends over there told me." She jerked her head in the direction of Bo and Stanley on the far side of the room. They waved happily at him.

'Guess what cowboy," she whispered into his ears, "while you're friend are at the table, I can show you good times."

"Oh sure who wouldn't like a good… ohhh…" he gulped. "You mean a good… good time… I…I'm sorry I can't."

Kim stared at darkly from the bar. "Who is that? Ron! Over here!"

Ron looked over at her. "I'm flattered ma'am but I've got to run."

"Hold on," drawled the woman as she cut his escapee off, "let me tell you what a good time consists of." She began to again whisper into his ear.

"Oh my goodness" Ron gasped

Kim became increasingly agitated. "I spend all day baking for him and he shows up late and now..."

Monique laughed as she wiped down another glass. "I'm no relative of yours or even a particular close friend, but I'd like to say you sound mightily jealous right now." She waited for a response from Kim but when she looked up Kim was already walking swiftly towards Ron.

Ron let a breath. "That really does sound like a good time, but I… don't think… I'm ready for that kind of advanced riding."

"Ahem."

Ron almost jumped out of his skin. "Oh Kim, uh… this um…"

"Claire Annette."

"Claire Annette, she's a friend of Bo and Stanley."

"I'm sure she is," Kim said before pulling Ron away.

"So long sweetie, come back and visit me anytime," Claire Annette called out.

"Uh…" Ron began to say something else, but he stopped himself when Kim gave him a look that would stop a bullet.

"So this is the birthday boy," Monique said when Kim returned with Ron at the end of her arm. "Howdy, I'm Monique Alexander, I superintend this saloon."

"Nice to meet you ma'am" He shook her hand. "Now doesn't this take the rag of the bush, is this fandango just for me?"

"Well that's how it started," Kim said as she watched the other cowhands enjoy themselves a little too much. "But it looks like they've already forgotten you're in the room, but they're still having a hog killing good time"

Monique reached and placed a large plate with an ugly, lumpy, yellow cake like mess on the bar. "Happy birthday"

"What is it?"

"It's a cake I think," Monique replied. "Kimberly made it."

"You made this… uh cake KP?"

_It didn't look this bad at home. _"You know what, let's forget about the cake," she said as she started pulling the cake away. "It didn't turn out the way I want it."

'Now hold on it… looks… ok." He took a piece of the cake and brought it to his lips. W_hat am I doing, this can't possibly be good… oh well I've taken a bullet before…_ He closed his eyes and tossed the piece into his mouth.

Monique and Kim watched him chew once, twice, three times and then he swallowed. "I can't believe it. It's delicious."

"Really?" Monique and Kim cried out in unison.

"Yeah, its great!" He took another piece. "It tastes much better than it looks, thank you."

"You're welcome," Kim replied with tingling cheeks.

"Excuse me folks, I'm going to check on the inventory," Monique said with a smile before walking off.

Kim cleared her throat. "So where have you been? I was waiting forever."

Ron continued eating. "I was just thinking… I think I'm ready."

"Ready for what?"

He turned to her. "Why I don't celebrate my birthday anymore."

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

**Ten years ago**

**In the small, schoolhouse less than half a mile from the town of Beavers Pass, the school master hushed the excited children down. With all the children settled would continue.**

**A hand shot up. "Teacher, Ronald is sleeping again." **

**The teacher turned to the sleeping boy in the corner of the room. "Ronald!" **

"**Ah Spiders!" He woke with a start. "Get them off me!" His outburst caused the other children to burst out laughing.**

"**Kind of you to join us Mister Stoppable. Unfortunately, class is done for the day." He turned his attention to the other children. "Everybody pay attention," he said raising his voice, "we're going to venture to town, and we will do so in single file." **

**Veronica took her place in the line in front of her brother. "Mom is going to throw a fit when she hears you fell asleep again."**

"**She won't have a fit if you hobble your lip about it."**

"**Maybe I won't say anything if you let me wear that necklace." **

"**What?" His hands instinctively went to the necklace. "That's paying through the nose!" **

"**Come on, you wear it all the time. I just want to wear it once, just for today."**

"**No, this is my good luck charm." **

"**Please," she pleaded, "are you saying your sister can't have any good luck?" she asked with a hint of sadness in her voice. "Just one day?"**

**It didn't take long for him to give in. "Okay, but remember to give it back at the end of the day." He reached for his arrowhead necklace.**

"**Come on, pony up," she said excitedly. She snatched the necklace out of his hand and threw it over her neck.**

"**Stop it Frank!" **

**They turned towards the commotion; a thin boy used his finger as a pistol barrel and poked another child in the ribs. **

"**I said stop it," the child hissed.**

"**Awww you're no fun, pow, pow, pow" Frank fired at a few more of his classmates with his imaginary gun. "You're scared of this and it's not even a real gun. What if wild red Indians come to kill everyone?"**

"**If any Indians come by, Sheriff Nell will take care of them. When he was a bounty hunter, his name was Nelly the Wolf."**

**All the children nodded in agreement. "The Wolf', that's a powerfully strong name… my handle is going to be Frankie the Scorpion." **

"**I'm Jimmy the Coyote," another child stated.**

"**Eagle Eye Johnny"**

"**Ron the Ferret!"**

**The boys stared at Ron in disbelief.**

**Frank laughed. "The ferret, that's powerfully weak." **

"**Yea, your name is supposed to scare people, like a bear or a mountain lion, somethin scary." **

"**Something scary? How about a scarecrow?" **

**The boys laughed again "There aint' nothing scary about a scarecrow"**

"**I think you're wrong," Ron countered as he jutted out his chin, "lots of people are scared of scarecrows." **

**Veronica nodded. "Yeah, Ron saw a scarecrow once and it scared him so bad he didn't sleep for a week." **

**They laughed again.**

**Ron rushed at his sister. "That's it, give my back my necklace." **

**She broke away from him. "But you just gave it to me." **

"**That's before you started making me look like a fool!"**

**XXXXXXXX**

"**Is that shotgun still beneath the bar?" Wilkes Summers said to Elliot Stoppable.**

"**Yeah, hopefully we won't need to use it." They both stared at the man hunched over at the bar nursing his drink.**

"**You know who that is," Wilkes said, "that's THE Goose Belllounds. I heard he rides with the Rooster Coover gang. What are we going to do?" **

**Elliot kept a cautious gaze on the outlaw. He wore a rain slicker, even though it wasn't raining. "Nothing is what we do. He's just going to have a drink, so we treat him like any other customer." **

**Elliot walked to the stranger and filled his shot glass.**

"**Obliged," said the gloomy outlaw. He was older looking, with a scar running through his chin whiskers, partially covered by a faded bandana. His wide brimmed sombrero hung behind him on a leather strip.**

"**Pa" Elliot Stoppable's eyes fell on the door as his daughter ran through the bat wing doors.**

"**Ron is trying to hurt me," she cried and ran behind her father. **

"**Ron, leave your sister alone." **

"**But… but…" Ron stopped and looked around his shoulder, he could swear someone was watching him.**

**Suddenly Sheriff Nell stomped into the saloon. "Goose Bellounds, I told you five years ago to stay out of my town. What are you doing back here?"**

**Goose brought the glass to his lips. "I thought it would be fine Sheriff, since I'm here alone. There's no trouble, I'm just spending one night, is that so wrong?"**

**Sheriff Nell looked Goose up and down. He didn't want to admit but he was afraid to push Goose too far. Goose had a reputation for being a fast draw, the prospect of a gunfight with Goose was not very appealing. However, Goose had seemed civil so far. "Just one night, huh?"**

"**Ah I reckon one night won't hurt none, but that's your last drink. You stay away from the saloons, and I want you out by first light" **

**Goose finished his drink, wordlessly stood up. "Obliged Sheriff," he drawled, before walking out of the saloon. The sheriff followed him out.**

**Ron noticed that immediately the atmosphere in the room lightened.** "**Pa, who was that man?" **

"**That man son, is a killer."**

**XXXXXX**

**Ron watched as Veronica walked out the door but not before sticking her tongue out at him. _Just you wait_ He turned his attention back to his father. **

**Elliot Stoppable removed a handful of bills from his pocket, and placed it into a pine box. He smiled when he realized he was one step closer to his goal of owning his own ranch. **

"**Thinking about the ranch again?" Ron said to father.**

**Elliot ran his hand through his hair and he blushed. "You got me son. Maybe I should have my mind on your birthday tomorrow?**

**Ron smiled "it's ok….I know how badly you want us to live in Middlewood" **

"**Well, it doesn't have to be Middlewood son. It sounds like a wonderful place, but I reckon we may not be able to afford to get to Colorado." He ran his hand through Ron's hair. "It may not be as great as Middlewood, but we'll find a good spot." **

**Elliot reached into his pocket, a gesture that usually meant Ron was going to get a piece of candy. But all he got was a disappointed look.**

"**Sorry son, I was working in the barn the other day and I must have dropped it. I'll get you another piece later." **

**Ron's shoulders slumped. "Alright" **

"**Come on son, cut a swell, maybe I can convince your mother to let you and your sister off school tomorrow."**

**XXXXXXXXX**

**Yes, he would get some candy later, but if he found the candy his father had lost now, then he would have two pieces of candy. It was the perfect plan.**

**He opened the barn door and closed the door behind him. _Now, what piece of hay should I check under first?_**

"**Who's that?" **

**Ron froze he heard a rustling sounding sound in the stall at the other end of the room. "Who's there?" **

**Goose grunted as he stood up. He plucked a piece of hay from his hair. "Hmmm, I thought you were that blasted Sheriff again." **

"**I… I… don't want any trouble from you." Ron stammered remembering what his father had told a rowdy drunk a few days back.**

**A grin to came to Goose's face. "That's a good bluff son, too bad your knees are shaking so bad. I almost believed you were a tough hombre." **

**Ron looked own at his legs they were indeed shaking. He tried to stop them but it took enough energy just to keep from wetting himself. This man was downright scary, he gave off an entirely different feeling than his father or any of the other men in town. **

"**Come here son," Goose beckoned. **

**Ron gasped, should he run? Should he scream? He was too scared to do either.**

"**What's wrong? Do I scare you?" **

"**My pa says you're a killer!" **

**Goose chuckled. "So you think I'm evil?" **

"**People who kill are evil." **

"**If you're not coming to me, I'll come to you." Before Ron could realize it, Goose was already upon him. He grabbed Ron by the shoulders and looked into his face. They stood there in the barn alone for what seemed like an eternity. At one point, Ron could swear the outlaw was about to tear up. **

**Suddenly he pushed Ron away. "Sorry about that son, you just remind me of something that was taken from me a long time ago. Go back to your family boy." **

**He pointed to the door, but Ron was still to frightened to move.**

"**I said Git!" Goose shouted. **

**With a surge of energy, Ron ran towards the exit. He had one foot out the door when he turned. He was terribly frightened of the man but there was one thing his young mind had to know. **

"**Um… why…"**

"**If you want to say something boy, just spit it out, real men don't mumble!" **

"**Why do you kill people?" he said quickly.**

**Goose was taken aback by the abruptness of the question. The child's question had him speechless "I had a good answer to that question once. But now… now I just want to go home." **

"**Go home?" **

"**Yes home, in a blaze of glory, that's the only path for me." He shuffled back to the stall he had emerged from and plopped himself down on a pile of hay. **

**Ron turned away and ran home.**

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

**Early next morning **

**Nell's big Colt boomed as he began falling downward. His bullet scattered dust at Goose's feet. He fell loosely as his body hit the ground with a loud thud.**

"**Looks like you weren't the one, Sheriff," Goose said grimly.**

XXXX

"**Ma's at the store and we need a little more to buy my---," Ron began when the sound of gunfire coming from the streets.**

"**What was that?" **

**Wilkes turned to Elliot. "I've no idea"**

XXXX

**On a nearby hill, just outside of town, Rooster Coover waited. **

**He had just gotten the signal and he was mentally preparing himself for the plunder. **

"**Looks like ol Goose is giving us the okay."**

**He turned to his freshly recruited gang. "Alright boys, this our first job. If we do this right, our names will be feared throughout the country-side." **

**He brought his attention back to the town. "Look at this boys" He pointed to a sign posted at the entrance.**

**_The carrying of firearms is prohibited in town limits._**

**Rooster roared with laughter. "Now that is a fine civilized law, it makes a man feel safe." He batted his heels into his hose's side. **

XXXXX

"**Ma, did you hear that, it sounded like shooting," Veronica cried, as they stepped out of the general store. **

"**Yes, it was gunfire," said the schoolmaster, as he crossed the street to approach them. "Someone should inform the sheriff." Then the heard the roar of thunder, but there wasn't a cloud in the sky.**

"**What's going on here--" He stopped at the sound of the rifle fire. **

**Veronica screeched as her teacher's chest turned red and a spray of blood spattered across the store window.**

XXXXX

**Raising his pistol, Rooster leveled it at the first person he saw on the boardwalk and shot him in dead in the street.**

**There was a second of ominous silence as the town stood froze in time. Then the shriek of a young girl rose above the sound s of pistol and rifle fire. The townspeople leaped for cover as the eight riders bore down on the town.**

**Rooster grinned. _How's this for an impact Tobias and I'm doing it all on my own_.**

XXXXX

**As rifle fire screeched all around them, Barbara Stoppable leaped onto her daughter as she screamed at the top of her lungs.**

"**Shhh just lie still sweetie," she said to her daughter. **

"**But the schoolmaster… he's dead ma, he's dead!" That's when she noticed that her mother's face was contorted in pain .**

"**Ma what's wrong?" **

"**Shhh baby just lie still." **

"**Ma!" she then spotted the spot of blood on her mother's clothing that was growing by the second.**

"**Ma!" **

XXXXX

**Rooster laughed as he gunned down an elderly couple crossing the street. A man stepped into the street with his hand at his hip but a rifle shot cut him down.**

"**That's it boys, that's how you earn your keep," he said to no one in particular. "Alright boys, tree the whole damn town!" He gigged his horse towards the boardwalk.**

XXXXXXXXX

**Elliot Stoppable grabbed his son. "Come on boy."**

"**Wait, what's happening?" Ron cried out. He turned to see Wiles lifting a trapdoor to a small cellar.**

"**What's happening," Ron repeated through tears. **

**Elliot Stoppable pushed his son into the cellar. "Don't open this door unless its for someone you know well. Okay?"**

"**Okay," Ron repeated, but he still didn't a full grasp of the situation. **

"**Wilkes, give me your pistol."**

**Wilkes handed Elliot a small derringer. "You remember when I taught you how to shoot?" **

**Ron nodded, as tears streamed down his face. "Pa, why do I need this, I'm not old enough to use a gun?" **

**Elliot smiled. "And hopefully you'll never have to use it. When this door closes, I want you to be quiet as a mouse. Can you do that for me?" **

"**Yes Pa." **

"**I'll be back for you soon son… I love you Ronald," he said quickly, before shutting the trap door, leaving Ron in complete darkness.**

**XXXXX**

**Rooster strolled around the town, enjoying the scene. The barber was being pistol whipped in the barbershop. The body of the general store owner came flying through a glass window. The restaurant was currently on fire. **

"**I should have done this sooner." **

**He saw Wilkes step out of the saloon rifle in hand, only to be brought down by the twin blast of a shotgun carried by Rooster's second in command. **

**His second charged into the salon and there was an exchange of gunfire. Rooster angled towards the saloon. He stepped inches from the bat wing doors to see his second lying dead on the floor. **

**Then he noticed a fumbling Elliot Stoppable attempting to reload his shotgun. Rooster stepped through the door, his fingertips inches from his holster.**

**Elliot loaded a fresh round and looked up, Rooster smiled at him.** "**Howdy stranger" He brought his attention to his hip. "Draw." **

**Elliot attempted to level the shotgun. He never saw Rooster draw, but he felt the slug that ripped through his chest and knocked him backward. **

**Rooster walked slowly toward Elliot's still convulsing body. "Too slow, my amigo." **

**He stroked his trigger and fired at Elliot's body again until it stopped moving completely. "Do you know how much money I had to pay that man to join my gang?" **

**He spotted the small pine box on the bar counter. "I'll take this as reparations." **

**XXXXXX**

**Ron cowered in the darkness. _That gunfire sounded awfully close._ "Pa?" he whimpered to himself. **

**Derringer in hand he lifted the trapdoor slightly. "Pa?" **

**He clambered out of the cellar only to find his father lying motionless on the floor. "Pa? Please wake up, please wake up, Pa!"**

**Ron shook his father's body. "Pa? Please Pa, please wake up!" **

"**You best give in son, he's dead." **

**Ron turned towards the sound of the voice.**

"**He's dead," Goose repeated. **

**Ron aimed the derringer at Goose. "No he's not, he's not dead! Stop lying!" **

"**If you're going to point a gun at a man, you better be ready to squeeze the trigger."**

**Ron's hand shook as he aimed the weapon. "No, he's not dead," he sobbed. Eventually he lowered the derringer, fell to his knees and began to weep.**

**Goose slowly strolled over to Ron. "Are you going to kill me?" Ron cried.**

**Goose took a deep breath and looked Ron in the eye. "When you're ready, come and find me. I'll be waiting." He struck Ron across his head with a balled up fist, knocking him off.**

**As Rooster lined up all the men in the town, the outlaw named Goose could be seen on the outskirts of the town, strapping a young boy face down onto a horse. "Survive, and then come find me." He smacked the horse on the back and watched it ride towards the horizon.**

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

Ron munched on a piece of cake. "I was found by--- a man who happened to be passing by and he raised me for a few years. Rooster burned the whole town down. The maniac did not leave anyone alive. When I returned a few years later, there was nothing there but tombstones."

"That's awful!" Suddenly Ron looked older. Something she saw in his hazel eyes hurt her deeply.

Her tone, and the tenderness with which she placed a hand on his stirred an emotion in Ron that he wasn't ready for. He pulled his hand away. "Excuse for a moment."

He got from the bar and left her alone, going over Ron's story in her mind. There was so much more she wanted to ask him about his life, but she didn't want to push him. She had the feeling if she waited; he would eventually open up to her.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

Ron leaned against the door of the saloon and looked up at the stars. The town was cast in twilight, the wind was still, and the clouds remained motionless. He shut his eyes.

"You must be a double-dyed fool to be falling in love."

It was the voice of Timothy Murdoch. Ron heard the familiar clink of ice rolling in a shot glass

"It's not like that," Ron replied.

"Uh-huh… so you got yourself a fight tomorrow."

"Yes, I have to protect Mister Possible."

"Doing so will add to your legend. Every itchy fingered deadbeat in this town who wants to make a name for himself will be gunning for you."

"I'm not worried about that… I just don't want them to see… I don't want Louis Wilson to be right."

"You knew the consequences when you walked down this path. You can't blame people who don't want to socialize with a killer."

Ron winced; Murdoch never did know how to pull punches.

"You can't begin to regret your actions now."

"Can I regret not regretting my actions? I reckon that doesn't make sense." He looked down at his right hand. "Right now, I'm Ron. Tomorrow, I have to be Scarecrow to protect Mister P----"

"We be who we have to be."

"---but is there really a difference between the two? Scarecrow...'What is in a name? Whatever name we may call a rose by it would smell as sweet...wow that Shake a spear is some powerful stuff."

"Asking 'is there really a difference' that's the same as me asking myself 'am I evil'? If I knew the answers to that I wouldn't need a glass of the oh-be-joyful every morning."

Ron remained silent for a moment. "I can't stay here any longer… they wouldn't understand…" He chuckled to himself. "I know where I've been, but now where am I headed?"

Murdoch said nothing.

"Do you think if everything was different… would she-----" He stopped and looked around. He realized he was alone and the streets were empty.

"Murdoch, you never did have an answer to the really important questions."

* * *

A/N Ok first Felix and Monique, I thought long and hard how to introduce these characters. I think I may have done them a certain justice, but its up to you tell me if you like them or hate them. Felix is going to be a big piece of the story later so I hope you dig them.

The story of Ron tracking down most of the outlaws will probably be told through separate one shots. Felix's storyline and his hunt for Scarecrow will also be fleshed out a bit.

Second: Name Ron's horse contest "I don't want to use Rufus (Zaratan has covered that base in his story Impossible Love) so suggest a name for the horse, and it may be featured in the fic

Finally tell me what you think Read and Review


	7. Cold as ice

A/N Been awhile hasn't if folks...Anyway let's get on with it. First of all the story so far has been relatively light hearted. This chapter is not, it's borderline dark. Rest assured the entire story will not always be this dark folks alrighty...Ok this is part one of the end of this arc hopefully you'll come back for part two. Thanks to Zaratan for being a beta and for all you readers. I never thought this story would be so successful.

Oh and this is the longest thing I've ever written on this site, take that for what it's worth.

* * *

April 1857 

Twelve year old Tobias Coover sat alone on top of Vacie Hill as he looked over the surrounding plains. He found that he was getting a newfound appreciation for the beauty of this territory. The trees gave the land a sort of grace and the deep lakes had a sense of dignity about them. It was a far contrast from Albany where he was born.

He never wanted to leave Massachusetts, leave his friends, leave his home, but his father and mother would have none of it. They were in Kansas to do God's work "To see that the territory of Nebraska and Kansas, is the sworn heritage of freedom, that it shall never be reduced to slavery."

That's what they said but he never really understood it, Kansas as he would reluctantly come to see over the past five years was a beautiful place. And wasn't God the creator of all things beautiful? At least that's what his mother said. If that was the case then Kansas was already God's land.

"What's that I smell on ya Tobias?" He turned to see his brother Rooster clamber up the hill. His real name was Jonah but everyone called him Rooster because of the way he loved to chase chickens. "It smells like skunk, ya ought to take a bath before you stand upwind to me." His little brother teased.

"You don't smell like no prairie flower yourself" Tobias countered

"I been looking eva-where for ya. Did ya run off to town again?"

When he wasn't fishing or hunting Tobias frequently ventured into town and wasted time at the saloon, although his mother had forbidden him from going (it wasn't like he was drinking or anything) he was there whenever he got free time. The men there had taken a liking (at the saloon he was known as that Coover boy) to him and they always enjoyed his company.

"Nah I was here all the time thinking about things,"

In the saloon the men would raise their fists in the air and explain how no man would push them around. They pounded their fists against the bar and argued about a "man's rights" and what a "man was entitled to" and how "a man should be able to make a living any way he pleased and no one should have the right to say otherwise." Then they would curse and bellow about the indignities of life. Tobias watched and listened with fascination. But today at the saloon he heard a rather disturbing conversation involving a good friend of his Sally Baird.

"What were ya thinking about?"

"I don't know……stuff…." His thoughts fell back to a biblical story that had captured his attention for most of the day. The story of Samson killing a thousand men with the jaw bone of a donkey "you reckon you can kill a man with the jaw of a jackass?"

Rooster thought about it for a moment "I reckon why not? Ma says David killed a giant with a stone."

He was right if you could kill a giant with a stone why couldn't you kill man with a bone?"

Rooster squinted as he looked up into the sky "Ma wants you to come home and do some work"

"Ah" Tobias rolled his eyes and picked himself off the ground. The two brothers at first strolled silently down the hill making headway towards the house.

"There's a scuttlebutt in town about a school being built. People say they might hire a teacher."

"So ya was in town ya liar."

Tobias ignored his brother's comment and continued "I reckon going to a school ain't going to be so bad."

Rooster smiled "I know why you want to go school. So you can see Sally eva-damn day"

"What if ma heard you cussing like that?" Rooster apologized but Tobias could care less. His thoughts ran from the church sermons to what he had heard about Sally in the saloon.

"**You hear the rumors about that young Baird gal."**

"**What her Pa did to her…..well it's the worst thing I can think of a man doing."**

He hadn't seen Sally in days, what could he have possibly done to her? Beat her? He knew about that already. He never really liked Sally's father, he would always look at Tobias with mean, angry eyes.

Sally had told him horror stories of beatings and how when in the "mood" he would pull his mother into the back room. That's how it was most nights; she would hear dog-like grunts through the thin walls but never a sound from her mother.

If he had done anything mean to Sally…….

A kind of rage washed over him. It was instant and without reason. For a second he was almost out of control, he was caught in a web of cold anger that was a beyond anything he had ever felt before.

And then it was gone.

"Are you ok Tobias?" Rooster asked.

"Yes I'm fine" Tobias didn't say another word until their house came into view. The house was built slightly askew, a window carved in each wall. There was no glass in the windows and the only way to let in fresh air was to lift up a heavy wooden shutter. As they neared the house they could hear the faint voice of their mother singing, she often sang whilst pulling weeds

"_We cross the prairie as of old, the fathers crossed the sea. To make the West, as they the East, the homestead of the free, we go to rear a wall of men, on freedom's southern line, and plant beside the Cotton tree. The rugged northern pine, we're flowing from our native hills. As our free rivers flow, the blessing of our mother land. Is on us as we go, we go to plant the common school. On distant prairie swells, and give the Sabbaths of the wilds. The music of her bells, up bearing, like the ark of God; the Bible in our van, we go to test the truth of God, against the fraud of man."_

She stopped singing when she saw them approach "Goodness Tobias you weren't down in town again was you."

"No ma I was just----" Before he could explain himself the sound of arguing interrupted their conversation.

"What's that?" asked Tobias.

His mother looked towards the backyard with a worried look on her face "Your father is entertaining visitors."

"I'm not going to tell you again Coover this is my land and I want you off it!"

David Coover stood his ground against his three accusers. Two of them stood up close to him attempting to intimidate him with their presence but he would have none of it. The third man stood a few feet behind them a jug of rye in his hand. Every few seconds he took a swig of the jug and stared coldly at David through his blood red eyes.

"Your land? You reckon you can mark off the land you want, drive a stake down with your name on it, and go back home to Missouri. You've got no title and no claim to his land because it does not comply with the law." He said firmly.

"This man may have not complied with the law, but he has a revolver and a bowie knife, and on the border these stand for law and right"

"Sir are you threatening me?" David asked.

"I'm tired of you free soiling bastards stealing our land and telling another man how he should make himself a living. You have no right!"

"My friend the way you make a living is an abomination to God. And I swear by all that is good in liberty and God, Kansas will not be tainted by---

David Coover never saw it coming; the third man stepped up and smashed the jug of rye across his head. The jug broke apart and parts of it stuck to his head

"Pa" Rooster gasped as he turned the corner of the house. There he saw his father lying in a pool of blood.

"Goddammit Zeb have you gone loco? Look what you've gone and done!"

The one called Zeb turned his sights on the rest of the Coover family "We can't leave any witnesses"

"Now hold on Zeb---

"BOYS GET IN THE HOUSE" their mother screamed as she finally returned from the shock of seeing her husband killed. She turned and pushed them forward. There was a booming noise and Tobias watched as his mother took a signal step forward and collapsed. She had been shot in the back.

"Ma!" Rooster's cry pulled Tobias from his paralysis. He grabbed his brother's arm and pulled him towards the house "Come on!'

"Git the rest of em Jackson!"

"No Jackson, they're just children!"

"Shut up Paul! We have no choice everything's all gone to hell!"

Half scared to the death Tobias led his little brother into the house ad made a beeline for his parent's bedroom, as the man argued outside.

"They gonna kill us Tobias, just like they did to Ma and Pa!"

Tobias responded to his brother's distress with a tight squeeze on his arm, then he charged forward to a chest of drawers that belonged to his late father. He pulled a revolver from the drawers just as someone burst into the room.

"Tobias!"

With a newfound strength and clarity he never knew he had Tobias turned his weapon on the surprised man, cocked the hammer and pulled the trigger, and suddenly there was a new hole next to the man's nose.

"No Jackson, there's been enough killing today!" Paul yelled from the doorway of the house. As Paul stepped in a slug hit him in the chest and sent him sprawling outside.

From a distance Zeb heard the gunshot and witnessed Paul fall into the dirt. Fearing an unknown but armed person in the house Zeb wasted no time running for his horse. He mounted it quickly and was about to ride off when he felt the urge to look back.

He turned to see the eldest Coover boy standing there, his brother by his side, a look of deadly determination that sent shivers through Zeb's body on the boy's face. Zeb didn't even hear the gunshot but he felt the bullet clip his ear, causing him to scream out in pain. Not wanting to give the boy another shot, Zeb dug his heels into his horse and rode off in a flash.

Tobias and his brother watched silently as their father's killer made his escape, when the silence was suddenly broken by a whooping cough. Paul struggled mightily to get to his feet. Blood leaked past his lips and splattered on the floor.

Click

Paul slowly pulled himself up to his knees and stared at the end of a barrel. "No please," Paul looked into the boy's eyes as he took aim and knew instantly he was a gone goslin.

"I….."

Tobias pulled the trigger as his rage hit its peak. Paul now with part of his face blown off fell over backwards.

"You did it Tobias" Rooster dropped to his own knees and cried "You did it"

Tobias felt his rage diminish and then he felt nothing, nothing at all. He walked over to his brother and gathered him to his feet. They watched as Zeb became a dot in the distance, his horse kicking up dust as they disappeared under the horizon.

Tobias glanced down at the revolver in his hand. It would be the last time he would miss a target for years to come.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

Santa Fe: Six years later

Reverend Brookdale solemnly knelt before a statue of Jesus on the crucifix. Tears formed in his eyes as he muttered under his breath. "My God, I am sorry for my sins with all my heart. In choosing to do wrong and failing to do good…..

Brookdale stopped when he heard the doors of the church squeak open. The howling desert wind outside screeched like a banshee. The door closed as instantly as it had opened. But the silence of the church was disrupted by heavy boots on the wood floor.

"Been a long time since I was in a doxology works" said an amused voice from the back of the church.

Brookdale whimpered but he did not turn towards the guest. He continued on with his prayer, as the sounds of the boots came ever closer.

The guest started to whistle but a second later he broke into singing "If you get there before I do, comin' for to carry me home. Tell all my friends I'm comin' too, comin' for to carry me home."

Brookdale shut his eyes and quickly recited another prayer.

"Swing low, sweet chariot, comin' for to carry me home; swing low, sweet chariot, comin' for to carry me home."

Even with his eyes shut Reverend Brookdale could tell that the guest had stopped right besides him. Losing the battle against his curiosity, the preacher overcame his fear and glanced up at the young man standing next to him.

The young man stared up at the statue with apt fascination. He grinned "Have ya heard about Bull Run? I reckon about over a thousand men must have died that day. Folks are saying the war is only going to get worse. O Lord where is your sweet justice."

The auburn haired youngster couldn't have been more than more than eighteen. He looked down as if seeing Brookdale for the first time "Back when I was a youngin…well I suppose most would still call me a youngin" he chuckled "my pastor would preach on and on about a vengeful God but my ma, she'd teach me and my brother about a forgiving and kind God…which leads to my question Reverend….which one was watching over us on that day six years ago?"

Brookdale gulped "I've made my peace with myself and the Lord."

A look of surprise came over the young man's face "have you now father…or should I say Zeb" Zeb winced it had been years since he heard such a name.

"Six years, its been a long winding trail but its finally over…. I've found ya" Tobias chirped happily.

"I've heard about you….I heard about the things you've done as you've been on my trail."

"Well" Tobias said "I don't want to brag but I've become mighty handy with a pistol since we last left off."

"Tobias Coover rumors in the wind say you've become a ruthless gunfighter, the fastest gun in Kansas I hear."

"Well how good I am is just a matter of opinion, some say I'm chain lightning on the draw, some say I ain't nothing special" He clucked "well I'll be, I'm the one doing all the jawing around here. What about you Zeb, how's your life been?"

"I curse myself each day for creating a monster like you"

Tobias laughed heartily "you've still got sand I'll give you that. Come on now Zeb, see what happened between us was just a test of my fortitude but I reckon you're not far from wrong….You put a chip in me Zeb…a chip that's been eating at me since I was twelve. But you didn't create me Zeb, who I am today, I always was."

"Child do you not see the devil has taken a hold of your soul."

"If I ain't scared of God why would I be scared of the devil Zeb? If that made a lick of sense than I didn't catch it"

"What of your parents? Is this how you want them to see you?"

"Tobias grabbed the Reverend forcefully by the chin "Don't you bring them up, you have no right to talk about them!"

"It hurts doesn't, deep down it still hurts. This shows above all that there is still hope for you! You're a lamb who has gone astray"

Tobias struck Zeb across the face sending him reeling to the floor. Zeb attempted to crawl away but Tobias chased him down like a predator on the plains. He kicked Zeb in the chest before snatching the reformed murderer by the hair and pulled him up to his feet.

Zeb coughed, specks of red formed on his mouth "It….never had to come to this"

"Yes it did" Tobais breathed heavily "I like it Zeb, back then I liked blowing your pards to hell and I've liked everything I've done since."

"It's my fault. My evil has given birth to more…for that I'm sorry…I'm truly sorry."

Tobias lowered his sleeve and a dull dagger fell into his open palm. The blade glinted from the little sunlight in the church before Tobias buried it in the belly of the Reverend.

"You think I'm evil….well one day we'll both sort out or moral obligations in hell. For now" he leaned into Zeb's ear "It's best you make peace with your maker." He drew out the blade and plunged it in again.

Zeb opened his mouth to scream but all that came out was a wet stickiness from the back of his throat. Pain seized him like never before.

"Feel free to die anytime you want" Tobias merrily continued to surgically plunge the dagger in over and over "I won't mind"

"I….forgive…..you…..my…son…please….try…to….for---" Zeb went limp onto Tobias' shoulder. Tobias pulled out the blade and wiped it clean.

"Well that just takes the rag off the bush, turning the cheek till the very end. At least he practices what he preachers."

"Goddang! When Tobia kills someone he kills em right!" Rooster whooped as he entered the church "Why couldn't you save me a piece brother?"

Tobias smiled gleefully as his brother approached "I guess that's it then." Rooster said a moment later.

Tobias looked into his brother's eyes and there he saw a question. A question that needed to be answered, now that the vengeance trail had finally ended was it over?

Tobias reached out and tapped his brother on the shoulder and answered without any words, the simple gesture was enough. It said "no brother this wasn't the end in fact this was just the beginning."

"Grab any valuables you can and then burn this place down."

A flash of excitement gave of Rooster; he let out a loud whistle and four other outlaws burst into the church whooping and hollering. Tobias nonchalantly strolled down the pews as his gang pillaged the church, when he caught sight of a figure in the corner of his eye,

"I thought I told you to stay outside." Tobias said to the young woman who stood waiting by the doorway. She stood alone her hands folded behind her back.

"I wanted to be here" she was a pretty, fair haired young girl with delicate features.

"I didn't want you to se---" She interrupted him by grabbing him arm with one hand "I wanted to be here."

Tobias silently brushed her hair away from he face.

She shivered "your hands are cold"

"Is that right?"

"I found this…." She removed her other hand from behind her back and handed him a hat, a flat crowned hat jet black like the midnight sky. "I think it would look good on you."

Tobias took the hat, inspected it and then placed it on his head "It's a might big, but I reckon I can grow into it."

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

Present day:

Tobias lifted a glass of whiskey into the air "To all us products of the environment… here's to doing what we have to do to survive in this cold world!"

Loud cheering and random gunfire erupted from the celebrating outlaws and bounced off the canyon walls.

Sweet Sally turned her eye away from the flickering fire the outlaws surrounded to Tobias Coover. The more she came to know him, the more she talked to him, the more she saw of him. The more certain she was that he was evil. He killed or would kill anyone for the slightest provocation. When the deed was done he'd smile or laugh but she knew he got no sadistic joy from the act nor did he regret it. Killing a man to Tobias was no more different than killing a bug or any other dessert critter. He killed as casually as most folks do when they eat a meal or put on clothes.

That day, when his parents died, something changed in Tobias, or maybe something was erased then replaced. Yes Tobias was an evil man… yet… she couldn't deny that she loved him.

Yes she loved him. She probably loved him since they were young. Her love grew even more after… after the incident with her father. The image of her father loomed over her in her mind's eye. She waved her hand as if to brush the image out of her mind, he would never bother her again, Tobias had taken care of that. Tobias had taken care of her all these years, she was glad when he called for her after all these months apart. Lord knows that she couldn't bear any more time away from him.

She watched as he bowed out to his audience and walked off by himself away from the rowdy crowd.

Tobias sauntered past the group of cabins used by the outlaws and through a narrow path in the canyon into another clearing where he could be alone. He shut his eyes and found that surprisingly his thoughts went out to his brother.

He sighed when he heard footsteps approaching from behind. Loose stones scattered under the boots of the mysterious would be assailant.

Tobias smiled to himself there was no reason to sneak up on man if you didn't want to do no harm. His right hand moved to his gun belt. The stranger moved steadily closer, he didn't hear the click of a hammer so apparently Tobias was about to get a knife in the back.

He'd give the man two more steps before…the sound of gunfire kicked Tobias into high alert. He spun around instinctively ready to take a hit and fire upon his……He stopped himself a second from pulling the trigger when he saw the body of his attacker drop to the ground. That's when Sweet Sally stepped out of the shadows brandishing a small derringer. She stepped over the wounded outlaws body, aimed her weapon at his head, and fired again.

"Well now," Tobias holstered his gun, "you sure are a frightful critter when your dander is up."

"He's been trying to kill you for days, apparently you killed his pa in a shootout a few years back."

Tobias chuckled. "That story is older than the Bible… where did you get this info anyway?"

"Men say allot of things in bed," she replied.

"Why Sal, if I didn't know any better I'd say you were fooling around on me."

She turned away from the body and pressed closer to Tobias. "I heard it from some of the other girls and besides, even if I did, it wouldn't be the same for me with anyone else. It never will" Tobias forcefully pulled her by the waist closer to himself. "You thinking about your brother?"

"Sometimes you scare me Sally…let me ask you a question hun, what do you see when you look at me?"

"I see a strong leader, a man with the courage to do whatever he pleases, whenever he pleases and however he pleases. You're not like the rest of them out there Tobias you're better, a prince among trash"

She ran her fingers across his face before she peeled of his jacket and began to unbutton his shirt. His mouth suddenly on hers working as his hand moved none too gently over her body

Tobias had a vast emptiness about in him she thought. And he may never truly love her as much as she loved him but they were bound to each other whether by love or passion or the chip they both carried inside.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

Ron reentered the Club Banana Saloon and was happy to see that it had an even more festive atmosphere now than it did before he had walked out. A pretty woman had taken the stage and started a song about a past love. Her voice was full and sweet, a voice one would not easily tire of.

A slightly buzzed Silias met him at the door. "Ron, where have ya been?"

"Outhouse calling," Ron answered.

"Well," Silias wrapped his arms around Ron's shoulder, "Come on over and play a few rounds." He started to lead Ron away.

Ron struggled for a bit. "But….I….Kim..."

"Yea she's a rip snorting type of female alright, but you keep at and you'll have a brand on her in no time… but let me warn you about something… the black widda ain't the only female critter that makes meals out of their fellas. Now come on, the others are a waiting."

"Ah sure." Ron reluctantly allowed himself to be led away.

"Hey boys, look what the cat dragged." Silias crowed to the rest of crew. They greeted Ron with a quick cheer, as they sat around a large poker table.

Bo took his eyes away from his cards. "Well since you've turned down your first gift," Claire Annette, who was now sitting on Bo's lap, smiled before waving at Ron, "we thought it was time to give you your other gifts"

"How'd you guys know it was my birthday anyhow?"

"A certain redhead spilled the beans. Go on now Antonio." Antonio unceremoniously handed Ron a brown sack.

Ron reached into the sack and pulled out the first item. "Huh, a shaving kit? Thank you, uh, but I don't shave."

"Is that right?" Antonio rubbed his hands across his stubbly face. "You don't mind if I borrow that do ya?"

Ron chuckled. "Heh sure" He handed Antonio the kit. Then he reached back into the sack and pulled an overly large leather belt with a large metal buckle, that was probably made for a man twice his size. It may have been the ugliest thing he'd ever seen.

"Alright guys thanks a lot." Ron sighed as he placed the belt back in the sack. "Now if you'll excuse me."

"Now hold on." said Stanley "Why don't you play a few hands with us? Who knows, we may never get a chance to play together again."

Ron thought about the significance of the comment to everyone in this corner of the saloon.

"You are familiar with the game of poker aren't you?"

Ron inhaled and exhaled. "Well sometimes I think I do, and sometimes I reckon I don't." He laughed before finding himself a seat at the table.

"Alright, let's celebrate with a drink!"

Everyone in the table whirled around in surprise and shock to see old man Lunsford standing besides Ron.

"And what are _we_ celebrating toothless?" asked Billy.

"Hellsfire sonny, when you get to be my age you celebrate every time you open your eyes in the morning."

Kim couldn't help but frown a bit when she saw Ron take a seat at the poker table instead of returning to the bar. There was so much more she wanted to discuss with him about his past.

"Now if there's one thing I've learned in my short time on this earth is that if you let a dog roam he'll find his way home."

Kim turned to Monique. "Who should I let roam?"

Before Monique could reply, Lunsford stumbled over to the bar. "Ma'am, we need us some conversation fluid… two rounds of whisky should be enough."

Kim gave him a hard stare.

"Goodness I'm as dry as a dessert. I hope the whisky here is good."

"Pffft…Old timer we've got whiskey here harder than….ere" Monique stopped when she when glanced back at Kim, "….diamonds," she said eventually.

Lunsford finally took notice of the look Kim was giving him. "What's the matter ma'am, are you angry that your favorite blond sparrow hasn't returned to his nest?"

She ignored his comment. "Ron ordered whiskey?"

"Actually, he ordered a strawberry brandy, but I'm not going to hold that against him." The old man laughed before turning towards the stage. "That chanteuse up there has more range than a Texan."

Monique ordered one of the saloon girls to carry the drinks to the table with Lunsford in tow.. "He's following that gal back like a hungry calf after its momma," she commented.

Kim watched as Ron studied his cards with a ridiculous grin on his face. She grinned herself, something about his smile was infectious. He had told her such a tragic story yet here he was minutes later with a smile on his face. She stared at him for a second and wondered if she had any right to pry into his life. You don't go prodding into a man's past unless he brings it up his own self. Really, he wasn't obligated to tell her anything yet he did. If she was patient, then he might just open up to her completely.

There was something weird about this Ron Cooley. He moved around with an aloof personal power and confidence, yet at times she noticed that he had a sort of wariness about him, like he was carrying a great weight.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

"You know, I'm starting to see why whiskey is so popular." Ron hiccuped. "I... mean it burns your throat like something fierce, it actually tastes like fire, and you can't feel your breath for the first five minutes. But after a while you just feel warm and happy…"

"Well if you were having so much fun why'd you ask me to leave?" Ron leaned on her shoulder as she half carried him out of the door of the saloon.

"I have had my fun…." He lifted a bag of coins he had won from the tables. "But because of the whiskey I was forgetting how to lose."

"What?"

"Besides," he said as Kim angled them towards their horses, "…besides I'd rather spend the rest of the night with you anyhow."

"I mean," he said quickly after she gave him a curious look, "I'd rather spend time with you...talking and such"

"Oh… thanks." She mounted her horse. "Oh boy here comes the Reverend."

Ron looked up to see Middlewood's own fire and brimstone preacher make his way towards them.

"Good evening Reverend Garber," Kim greeted him.

He ignored her and went straight for him. "Young man, liquor is a corrupter of men, and a path to the devil"

"Oh don't worry about me Rabb….Fath….Reverend," Ron started unaware that the preacher could smell the alcohol on his breath, "I don't drink, but I've got something for you." He handed over the sack of coins. "This is for the church."

"Why… thank you," said the speechless Pastor. He continued to admonish Ron with praise for another ten minutes before finally walking off.

"That Reverend is a good man," Ron said

"Well I never thought of you as being a philanthropist."

"Actually I'm a republican… well my father was a republican so I guess that makes me a republican."

"I don't think that's how the party system works."

"Wait a minute," Ron said suddenly "I ain't riding next to that animal."

Kim patted El Diablo on the neck. "Why not?"

"He tried to kill me!"

"I see drinking makes you more cracked than usual. You've already ridden next to him today and he hasn't done anything mean."

"Mean? That's not meanness I see in his eyes. That's treachery."

"Just get on the dang horse."

"Alright quit your hollering… just let me… get up here…" With a few grunts Ron slowly and gradually mounted his horse. "Is it me or did my horse get taller?" He said as they started moving down the road.

"You know, I'm not against charity but you could have put that money in the bank, saved it up for that ranch you're dreaming about."

"I've come to realize that people like me don't deserve such good living," he said solemnly.

"I don't know….yes you're a tad lazy," she teased, "and you might not have enough brains to grease a skillet……"

"Ah if you're trying to cheer me up you're better off just shooting me."

"…..But I'm sure if you put some effort into it, you'll have a ranch before you know it. Reach for the sky and you can play with the stars. That's what my grandmother always told me."

"Hmmm..." was the only reply she got back.

"Speaking of playing with the sky…" Kim said when they were a few minutes outside of town, "the moon looks big enough to touch tonight."

Ron glanced up at the looming globe illuminating the sky. "You should see the moon in Texas….everything's bigger in Texas…..This reminds me of a night I spent in Louisiana watching the moon flowers bloom….they only bloom at night you know."

"You've been to Louisiana?" She asked curiously.

"Heck I've been mostly everywhere from here to Mexico. Now you haven't felt heat until you've been in a Mexican desert. It's hot as heck down there for nine months out of the year and then it really starts heating up."

"What were you doing in Mexico?"

"What?" Ron said getting caught off guard. "I was doing a favor for a friend of mind, helping help him out."

"You insist on being mysterious about this?"

"It's my right to be mysterious…it says so in the Constitution."

"Fine then…. I do have to say I envy your seeing the rest of the States like you have. I plan to do so myself."

"Well I'm sure Mister Possible has the money to take your family on all kinds of trips if you ask him kindly enough."

"I don't think my family would be interested on the kind of traveling I'm talking about."

"What do you mean?"

"While I love living in Middlewood, sometimes I feel bored. I…. well, I feel that there is adventure ahead of me and I'm just putting in my time waiting for it to happen."

"Adventure, the few gals I've met of your "comfortable lifestyle" see what you do everyday as adventure enough. I knew of a friend of mine who got divorced because his wife couldn't handle his way of life…"

"Way of life?" she interrupted.

"Uh….he moved around a lot for various…..social….political….reasons. The point is she married a banker, he gave her everything she needed right at home and she never had to leave the house…"

"Well sounds like she wanted exactly what I'm trying to avoid….boredom."

"Boredom?" He slapped his knee and laughed "You sound just like an outlaw."

"You don't need to break the law to have adventures."

"KP you're a smart pretty gal who happens to come from a good, decent family. You'll find a good husband quicker than I can spit on the floor. You're set for life…you don't need adventure!"

"You're right I don't need it…but I want it," she said simply. "Aut viam inveniam aut faciam."

"Come again?"

"That's Latin, it means "I'll either find a way or I'll make one"

"The world isn't as peachy keen as you think. There are some places where the sun don't even shine!"

"I know that… but I'm of the opinion that there's more beauty and good in the world than dark and evil."

Ron smiled. "Kimberly Ann Possible, I can safely say you are purely original."

"I'm just being myself, there's no law against that."

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

Seth rubbed his sore chaffed wrists "thanks for removing the irons Marshal, I've never been too partial to bracelets myself."

"Don't think I'm being too merciful here, you do one wrong move and I won't think twice about putting a bullet in your head an leaving you to the wolves."

"Right, right I hear you." He tossed a piece of wood into the fire. Under the watchful eye of his captor Seth Beechum relaxed and rolled himself a cigarette.

"Let me ask you something, what made you become an outlaw anyway? Were you just jealous of the rich folk, or did your daddy beat you a little too hard?"

Seth laughed. "What makes a man become an outlaw? Please, all it takes is for a man to jerk iron recklessly once and he may be dodging tin stars for life. For me, I didn't take to schooling much… I wasn't fond of the labor world… and I didn't want to nursemaid a bunch of smelly cows for a living… but mostly, I wanted to live my life the way I please. We outlaws see the fork in the road and we go straight."

"Fun huh? Killing innocent civilians and robbing is your idea of fun?"

"Now robbing banks is fun but I never killed no one that didn't drag iron at me first…. When me and Scarecrow were riding together, we never killed anyone you or anyone else would call innocent. The people we did shoot or mostly the people Scarecrow shot; the world is a better place without them. Thing is, we shot more at the sky and windows than people and that's the god honest truth." Seth leaned back as if remembering something fondly. "We had class, like Frank and Jesse James up in Kentucky."

"Class, is that why you joined that murdering weasel Rooster Coover's gang?"

Seth shrugged. "Wasn't my idea to ride with them… but then again, I won't deny I enjoyed the money I got from joining that gang….." He lowered his voice and looked down at the ground. "Rooster did take things too far once in awhile but we were still part of something… and no matter what, you don't betray your gang or other outlaws."

"There's a code among outlaws?" Will scoffed.

"Maybe not but there's a code among men though…."

Will, shook his head. "Well, you better change your ways and go straight."

"Can't do that friend, once you've done the things I've done the world won't let you go straight. I tried to tell Stoppable that……Besides, I'm going to live according to my lights, and I'm not going to apologize for that… anyways, I'm tired of the past, let's dig into the future. If you're thinking about catching Scarecrow, I hope you're good with that weapon there."

Will's curiosity was piqued. "Oh, a regular shootist is he?"

"Quick as snake, twice as deadly… course, he's only really deadly when he puts his mind to it… that might be the best advantage you've got actually…"

"What's that?"

'That advantage is that he's not out to kill you… if he was, well than it would be a different situation."

"Sounds good," Will said approvingly. "That's a mighty fine stepping stone for me until I get to Tobias Coover…."

"I thought Tobias was dead."

"Nah, he's alive, he and Payton Dawson run the gang Angles Caidos."

"Angles Caidos, they're nothing but a myth! There's no such gang with as much power as people say they have."

"Oh, they exist and I'm going to bring them down." He settled against a tree. "And that's when my legend will begin."

A few feet away, Jenkins, Betty, and Veronica lay quietly in the confinement of their sleeping bags. Veronica was just about to doze off when she heard snickering in the darkness.

"Missus Director, is that you?"

"I'm sorry if I disturbed you hon…. I'm just laughing at that boy… he's as arrogant as the day is long." She laughed.

"I can sense his dedication to the job though. I've never seen someone take so much pride in their work."

If she could see in the dark, she would have seen the smile on Betty's face. "It's something about the Director's. We…me and Barney, never expected Will to feel the same. Barney was a lawman, his father was a lawman, and his grandfather was a lawman. It just runs in the family. Barney was just as arrogant at first, he used to say all the time that the name Director meant law, it meant justice. Will, well, he just seemed to pick up on this universal law."

"Four generations of lawmen, that's quite a history."

"A history to be proud off," Betty agreed.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

Four years ago:

Timothy Murdoch took a sip from his canteen and let out a satisfied gasp. A strong rough wind whipped around his face as he settled in his wooden chair, a pile of stones collected on the side of the chair.

"Ok, the man on the right is carrying a Smith and Wesson revolver, but his holster is hitched too high, his feet are far apart. The man in the center has a Russian, his holster resting on the front part of his leg. Man on the left has a Peacemaker holster hung midway a little to the rear. His feet parallel to his shoulders. Who's shooting first?"

Ron's face strained from thought "the guy on the right?" he guessed.

Murdoch nonchalantly picked a smooth flat stone from the pile and whipped it at Ron's head. It struck him in the center of the forehead causing him to cry out on pain.

""You're wrong!" he collected another stone. "Guess again."

"The one on the left with the Peacemaker," Ron cried.

"Why?" Murdoch asked. He flicked the stone up and down in his palm.

"Because… because the holster being hung midway means he knows the best angle the holster has to be for the best angle and advantage. Which means he practices a lot, which means he's a better shooter than both of them, which means he's the better shooter than the rest," Ron replied quickly.

"Good, now who's the second most dangerous?"

_The guy with the Smith and Wesson has his holster too high which will cost him a few seconds while drawing, but the same can be said about the feller with the Russian who has his holster on his front leg… but Smith and Wesson has his feet too far apart which means his shot will be a little off …so _

"The one with the Russian," Ron answered.

"Great." Murdoch flipped the stone in the air. Ron watched as it sailed into the air and fall back to the earth.

He drew once it landed and aimed at a few bottles lined up on a fence in the distance. He fired three shots and three of the six bottles exploded.

_Damn still not good enough Murdoch can shoot a pimple off a cow's as--_

"You're getting better," Murdoch said suddenly before taking another sip from his canteen.

Ron nodded in agreement. "Yeah I reckon…."

"But," Murdoch cut him off, "shooting a bottle is not the same as shooting a man." Murdoch climbed out of his chair. "Imagine a man coming back from the war, he comes home to find all his property stolen by carpetbaggers. He's got no place to go, he becomes an outlaw, he wants your money, he attacks you. Can you shoot him? ….How about the farmer who's suffered through a drought, he can't feed his family. He needs your money, he attacks you… can you shoot him? What about the man who lost his ranch to the bank he's mad at the world. Your jacket and your food are the only thing standing in the way of his survival.

"What do you mean?" Ron stammered as Murdoch approached him."

"I'm saying, going on a vengeance trail for these outlaws means you're not just going to run into the purely evil, you're going to run into desperate men as well and they're going to want to kill you."

He used his free hand to grab Ron by his collar. "It's easy to kill a man who makes a living out of killing. But it ain't easy to kill a man who wants to feed his family. He will kill you, will you kill him?"

Ron had never seen Murdoch this angry for along time. It was only the fact that he had known this man for a few years that kept him from running off. "I….I…"

"I'm telling you, to be a gunman you need cold blood. And I've seen you these past few years and you don't have it son. Too be honest, if Lucifer came to earth, I don't think you'd have the gall to shoot him. Cold blood makes you a soldier boy, cold as ice. You're to young and green to understand the consequences of a man"

"I made a promise at those graves and I aims to keep it," Ron muttered to him.

"Ask yourself boy, even if you can get through this physically, can you get through it mentally? Killing changes a man don't let anyone tell you different. It makes you an outsider."

"Show the world the warmth of your smile."

"What?"

"My mother used to tell me when I got hurt to try and smile no matter how much it hurts. "The warmth of a smile will always keep you warm." It took me awhile to remember that but that's how I'll deal with things for now on with a smile on my face…..no matter how much it hurts."

Murdoch stared at Ron for awhile and chuckled. "A smile huh?" He let Ron's collar go. "Alright then." He walked back to his seat and threw another pebble into the air.

Ron corrected his stance as he waited for the pebble to drop. Once it landed on the ground he fired. This time the bottles didn't explode. Instead, he managed to break off the bottle necks.

Murdoch whistled before taking another drink. "There's potential in you yet boy."

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

The sun still hadn't risen when Ron glanced outside the bunkhouse window. He could tell it would be a bleak morning, probably gray and sunless. Today, he would ride for James Possible and then when it was all over, he would keep riding. He yawned, a full night's sleep and he was still tired. Most of the bunkhouse had already gotten up and they probably wanted something to eat.

Ron looked at his holster that lay on his bed. Today, those guns would save lives and end them at the same time. They would save his life or he'd die. Life was funny like that.

He picked up the gun belt with shaking hands, he willed them to stop "Shaking hands are against the rules…Shaking hands can't shoot straight" he told himself.

Wordlessly Ron strapped on his holster and walked out of the bunkhouse. He didn't get far before he heard a familiar voice.

"You don't need to rush so. I've already started breakfast."

Ron turned to Anne. "That's really kind of you Missus P."

"It's the least I could do" she said

"Don't worry about it ma'am, Mister P will be back home safe and sound in two shakes of a deer's tail. I promise"

"I've come to think," she began, "that I have no right to ask such a thing from you."

"Of course you do… you've all been so kind to me. It's the least _I_ can do."

"No… you should look out for yourself, it'd be wrong to ask you to look out for James with your own life in danger."

With sudden quickness Ron's gun was in his hand. He twirled it forward and then he twirled it backwards. He moved his arm high while twirling then he moved his arm low. He gave it a final twirl and it slid neatly into his holster.

"Don't worry about me none…I keep my promises. Mister P will return safely."

"That was quite a display of skill," Anne said. "You say James will return safely but what about you?"

"I'm not coming back ma'am, that is to say I'm leaving after this is done."

"Why?"

"I like it here Missus P but I sure don't belong here. Trouble seems to follow me around and I'm feeling restless. And everyone knows there are two cures for restlessness, liquor and a new range, and since last night confirmed that I ain't much of a drinker……"

"What about Kim? I thought you were friends….Aren't you going to say goodbye to her?"

"Speaking of that…." he said changing the subject, "what will you tell her when she wakes up."

"You're right, she will probably ask about you……...and the rest. I'll just tell her that James and the boys went out to recount the herd a second time and they needed your help."

"Look….. I'd…. appreciate it if you could say goodbye for me," he stated, "as a personal favor. Tell her that….just tell her goodbye."

Anne walked over to Ron and grabbed him by the hands. "Leave or stay, its your decision, but I will say again that you're always welcome here. There's still much about you that we don't know… but what I do know is that the only one who has a right to judge others is the Almighty, no one else." She leaned over and pecked him on the cheek. "Goodbye Ronald."

For a second time she walked off, leaving him alone. _She's says that now but….._ Ron started towards the barn thinking that no matter how she felt about him later, the world needed more people like Anne Possible.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

The cowboys of the Circle C ranch had ridden for more than forty minutes when the sun came up over the horizon; James Possible rode along a foot ahead of the others, the other eight held back to give him privacy. It would be another couple of hours before they reached the halfway point to Avery's ranch where they would meet up with Chick Moore's group.

"By God," said Bo, "Yesterday went by so quick, it seems like it was just today."

"Tell me about it," muttered Stanly. The others agreed with their sentiments. "Hey Antonio, what happened to that filly you were sparking up last night?"

"Ah, she went off with the fellar who was playing the piano."

Bo shook his head "That's how it always is with gunmen and musicians. They get all the women."

"Ain't that the truth" John agreed. "What did you expect? Did you see the way most of the gals there were looking at him. Women never want a man as badly as when they see other women want him, that just a fact of life."

"I still say gunmen get the most women then any other profession. Musician probably comes second."

"I don't see it, what are they attracted to? The killing?" Billy asked.

Although Ron had never himself enjoyed the perks of being a gunman, he had seen many who had. So he had found the conversation amusing.

"Nah it's that devil may care attitude they carry…."Look at me, I'm a bad man, I don't care whether I live or die." Hell, I'll tell you something, even if a man wasn't a gunman. If he had that bad-man attitude about him he'd still be the bull of the woods."

"And I'll tell you what gives a man that attitude," Bo spat on the ground. "It's all related to pecker size."

"What?" Kip laughed.

"I'm telling you, when a man is confident about himself, that's what gives him that attitude and the gals sense it in him. They can feel it."

"Well that's a might shallow way of judging a man's worth," said Billy.

They all stared at him.

"I'm just saying," He said before turning his attention away from the group. Bo and Stanley chuckled to themselves.

_Pecker size?_ Ron thought to himself _Oh well_ _I've heard stranger explanations for the way females act_

Without warning, Silias broke into song. "There's blood on the saddle and blood on the ground, and a great big puddle of blood all around; A cowboy lay in it all covered with gore. And he never will ride any broncos no more."

"Dammit Silias," yelled John, "pipe down, your voice is attracting buzzards. You sound like a dying calf."

"Hey fellas," they turned to Billy, "do we… do we have to kill em… can't we just rough them up a little and then turn them loose?"

They turned away from him and suddenly everyone looked straight ahead. A moment later, John, the foreman, spoke up. "Where there's cattle, they'll always be rustling. We can't show any weakness or we'll be seen as easy targets. We've got to make an object lesson out of these men. The ones who don't get shot will probably get hung. I guaran-damn-tee you some people are going to die today.

They continued to ride on when the sound of a signal gunshot broke the silence. They all looked back to see Ron reloading his gun.

"What are you wasting ammo for you imbecile?" John shouted.

"It's be for good luck," Ron said. "Besides, don't you know once you squeeze the first shot out, it's easier to keep firing until it's empty."

The cowboys glanced at each other before one by one they fired into the air, creating an eight man salute.

A moment later, Silias resumed his song. "Oh, pity the cowboy all gory and red, a bronco fell on him and bashed in his head. There was blood on the saddle and blood on the ground, a great big puddle of blood all around."

This time, no one interrupted him.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

Later that afternoon

Kim looked back and forth between all the saloon girls. "I fail to see the attraction that these girls hold."

Monique chuckled. "The way I see it, most men are often intimidated by the "decent" women who lay down the law before they an even get a chance to talk. So they find themselves much more comfortable with these ladies who allowed them to be who they were." She smiled "So hun, where's your blond friend?"

"The whole brand went out to count our cattle heads. They probably won't be back for a long while….."

If she was right, than a second recount would probably confirm the missing cattle, then her father would have no choice then to confront Avery and his brand.

"So I thought I'd come to town and do some shopping, and maybe stop by and say hello."

"Thanks darling, the conversation around here," she looked at Lunsford, who sat in the barstool next to Kim asleep, his face planted firmly on the bar, "has been a bit lacking."

Kim shook her head. "Looks like he had one drink to many"

"And then he had five more" Monique sighed

"Well the Rockwaller's store has a new split skirt I've had my eye on. It's a little… provocative but it's perfect for riding."

"Good afternoon ladies," said Sheriff Barkin. Automatically, he caught the brim of his hat between his two fingers and drew it off.

"Afternoon Sheriff," the both greeted him.

"Miss Alexander, if you don't mind, I'll have a glance of wine. Usually I don't drink so early but I've reason to celebrate, seems our town is set to build a courthouse."

"Fantastic, a place isn't a real town unless it has a law wrangler or two," exclaimed Lunsford.

"You're awake?" Monique asked as she poured Barkin a drink.

"Yes I am...just in time to celebrate with the sheriff here. I'll have a glass of wine myself."

Barkin toasted to the town's success when Virgil Duval, Cray Shaw, and Curly Thomas walked in through the door.

"Oh boy, here comes trouble" said Lunsford with his lips on the wine glass. "For the past few days, Virgil's been on the peck."

Virgil spotted Barkin and smiled.

"Trouble?" Monique asked. She glanced at Kim who nodded in agreement. "Huh, Sheriff, the Club Banana has established a new rule. No weapons will be allowed in the building."

"Well howdy Sheriff been keeping the termites away from your leg?" Virgil said and his compatriots laughed.

Barkin eyed their weapons. "Boys, I'm afraid say I've just been informed that weapons aren't allowed in this saloon."

"I ain't giving up my gun."

"Shut up Curly," Virgil barked at him before returning to Barkin. "Are you serious?"

"Yes I am, I was elected to keep the peace, I don't play at it. Miss Alexander owns this property and she makes the rules."

Virgil locked eyes with Monique "You see this is what happens when you give these people too much free reign. They start getting too uppity for their own good."

Monique bristled.

"And what's that supposed to mean?" Barkin asked.

"Nothin," Virgil sneered. "Alright Sheriff we'll follow the rules."

Monique kept her eyes on Virgil. "There's a closet in the back sheriff, they can put their guns there."

"Alright, follow me." Barkin led Virgil and the rest to the back of the saloon.

Kim watched them closely as they moved to the back. Then she turned to Monique. "I'm sorry about all that."

Monique smiled. "Don't worry about it girl… things may have changed greatly in the past twenty years…..but they haven't changed as much as you'd like to hope. If you'll excuse me, I'll be right back" She then slinked away.

Kim sadly watched her leave but she also took the opportunity to head for the exit. Once on the street, she started to search the town for a familiar face.

"Come one come all try the new chicken wire… this spool of wires keeps the chickens in, but keeps the coyotes, dogs and wolves out! The latest of Wade Load's famous inventions… hey Ki-" Before Wade could finish she snatched up his box of invention with one arm and used her free hand to drag him down the street.

"Hey what the heck?" he cried.

"No time, we need some place quiet to talk."

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

Back at the saloon Barkin took a seat next at Lunsford at the bar. "You were right Lunsford, these boys are trouble, real trouble," he whispered to him.

Lunsford looked up from his drink. "Do tell."

"I just got a wire back from Bartlesville, Avery did lose his ranch in a poker game to a man named Lily the devil, a notorious card shark and rumored member of Angles Caidos."

"Tarnation, so how did he get his ranch back?"

"I reckon my good friend Avery made a deal with the Devil. He must be using his ranch as a front for rustlers."

"Good lord… Avery has over twenty five hands…you can't possibly bring them all in by yourself."

"You're right, I'd probably need help from the James and Chick at the least…." He sighed. "Middlewood was such a peaceful town."

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

The ride took a few more hours after meeting with Chick Moore's group at the halfway mark, the riders where now twenty one men deep. When the reached the Bar B only four of Avery's hands were there to greet them when they arrived.

"And what's this all about," one of the hands said with a cold smile on his face.

Ron studied the four. The man who had spoken up had a well oiled holster, to give the pistol a smoother motion when drawing. So far, he was the most dangerous one.

Chick Moore and James Possible stepped out to the front of the group. Ron casually stepped up behind James.

James sighed. "We've checked these fine animals of yours and it's strange how many different brands you've got on some of them. Do you happen to have bills of sale from their former owners?"

The men laughed and some of them stepped away from each other until they were all six feet apart. "I can't say we do."

"That's bad," Chick said. "Without proof, you can't blame a man for jumping to conclusions."

"Are you calling us rustlers?" The outlaws tensed and studied the cowboys with interest. A second later, Avery Bronson stepped into view obviously drunk and belligerent. "What's going on here?"

"I'm wondering the same thing," said Chick.

James looked down at the ground for a moment and then finally made eye contact with Avery.

"You're rustling Avery, we know it."

"How dare you show up to my spread and spew such nonsense!"

"We've seen the cows with our own eyes… some of them ours," Chick stated.

Avery glanced at the rustlers then he looked past Chick to James. "Your cows were taken?"

"Yes, I've counted it myself. Some of my heads are missing and there was a trail leading back to your spread."

Avery looked bewildered but then regained his composure. "Alright… just let me handle it and I promise none of this will ever happen again."

"You're right, it won't" said Chick.

The rustlers tensed again. Ron slowly eased in front of James Possible. Astonishment came to Avery's face. "I give you my word."

Chick shook his head. "It's not enough. You know the range law as well as we do."

Avery chuckled. "You can't be….over a bunch of cows?"

"Those cows are how we put food in our family's mouths; it's how we make a living"

"Hold it right there," said the vocal rustler with a dark scowl as Ron took a step forward. "You take another step forward and we'll tell everyone who you are."

Ron completely blocked Mister Possible from any good shooting angles. "That's fine with me, tell them who I am." He hooked his thumbs in his belt creating a look of casual indifference.

The three other three rustlers visibly tensed but the talkative one actually eased forward. He was looking for a fight, he'd make the first move and the others would follow.

"You think you're better than us. You're just as stained as we are."

Ron smiled politely at him and took a deep breath _Cold as ice._ "If you feel lucky, than please go ahead and roll the dice."

This brought a grin to the rustlers face and he went for his gun. With that Ron's right hand flashed down and up, moving so fast it was a blur. It was in his holster one moment and in another it was in his hand. The gun boomed like thunder and slug tore into the head rustler's neck, he staggered back with a look of shock on his face.

Ron spun on his heel to the east with his colt perfectly centered; he aimed at the next nearest rustler who was far too slow. He had not even pulled his gun out of the holster before Ron fired a second time. Then Ron reversed direction by swinging to the right, slapped the hammer of the colt while squeezing the trigger. He struck another rustler down in the chest knocking him backwards.

Finally Ron's fourth shot in as many seconds caught the last rustler in the temple. Then the first rustler who was still clutching his neck fell over backwards.

Ron exhaled and a wisp of white escaped from his lips as he released the spent cartridges from his gun and swiftly reloaded.

"You killed them!"

"That was our initial intention sir… if I hadn't, they might have killed you." He told his employer.

"How?" cried Bo. "I never saw a man draw and fire so fast in my life. Four men… before anyone of them fired a shot."

"I guess they caught a bad case of the way too slows. It spreads like wild fire this time of year."

"I can't believe…." Avery stammered and suddenly everyone's attention was back on him. He looked at Chick and James, his eyes pleading. "You can't."

Chick stepped forward he glanced at a nearby tree. "I'm sorry Avery, you brought this on your self."

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Creyer Creek was a typical small town that was built on the crossroads leading to bigger towns. They did a lot of business, selling to the constant flow of settlers entering or leaving Texas and heading into the territories. This was where the legendary Sheriff Ken Towers had settled after more than a two life times of civil duty.

Walking into the lobby of the town's main hotel, Will Du paused to admire the quaint little place. It was nowhere near as fancy as the hotels in Austin or San Antonio but it sill had a homey feel to it. Betty, Veronica, Jenkins and Seth, whose hands now wore manacles connected by chromium plate chain about a foot long, followed him up to the front desk. Dropping his saddlebag loudly on the counter, Will smiled at the clerk. "Afternoon sir. Deputy Marshal Will Du, I was wondering if you got anything open on the top floor."

"Hold it right there," Ken Towers barked as he entered the hotel.

Ken Towers was a big man. He stood over six feet tall, with broad shoulders and arms that could squeeze the life out of a bear. He had brown hair with dark eyes that seemed to lock on whoever he was talking to.

"Mister Towers….I mean Sheriff Towers…:" Will rushed over to the officer. "It's a pleasure to meet your sir….my fat….Marshal Director had told me so much about you. You are a legend in my book sir."

Towers shook Will's hand but his face remained a chisel of marble. Two of his deputies made their way into the hotel.

"Nice to meet you son, your pa was a good man. I was proud to ride with him. And I must congratulate you on the capture of Seth Beechum. He's wanted around these parts, so if you don't mind I'll take him in. I've got a cell waiting with his name on it."

Will looked back at Seth. "I've got the situation under control."

Towers ignored Will and signaled for his deputies to grab Seth.

"Hey, there's no need for that… In fact I could use your help, Mister Beechum here has some vital information for me and I'm escorting him to….."

Towers roughly brushed past Will almost knocking him to the side.

"Grab him and let's go," he told his deputies.

They took Seth by the arm. "Hey, the deal is off if I go to jail," Seth protested.

Will stepped in front of the sheriff. "Mister Towers please, with Seth's help I may have the means to take down Tobias Coover and Angles Caidos. I know you can see the importance of……"

"Tobias Coover is dead and Angles Caidos is just a fairy tale."

Will's eyes widened. "A man of your stature can't possibly believe…..I mean, you of all people, outlaws are more organized than ever…prominent politicians being assassinated, people being scared off their home by "unknown" assailants."

"There are and there will always be bad elements in this country and you'd be crazy to think you can fix it all that's just the reality of the situation."

He pushed past Will again as the deputies pulled a struggling Seth away by the arms. Betty Director tried to step in between Ken and the exit. "Mister Towers, as a good friend of my late husband, I implore you to stop this… Seth Beechum is our only lead in a very important investigation."

He side stepped her. "And I implore you ma'am to let me do my job. When I see a wanted man, I have to bring him in."

Without thinking Will grabbed the sheriff by the arm. "How can a man who Barney Director considered a partner be so blind? I know for a fact… I'd bet my life that Tobias Coover is still alive and his gang very much exists, you have to trust me…"

"Why? Because you're Barney's boy? That don't mean nothing no to me son," Towers growled as he pulled his arm away.

"For the sake of justice…."

Towers stepped up to Will so that the very spittle from his mouth would make contact with his face. "What do you know about justice _boy_? I once spent weeks out there in the plains alone tracking dangerous Apaches after they've raided whole towns. I've seen men hung, men tortured, women violated, whole families killed. Things that just five years ago were still giving you nightmares, that had that you crawling into your ma's bed. Yet I've still went on ignoring my own safety, always fighting the odds just to keep the peace. Son, you are a hundred years too early to talk to me about justice."

Towers turned to walk away. Will licked his lips and his body shook involuntary. "Naw you're not blind," he took a step forward, "you're working with them."

"Will!" Betty shouted.

Ken Towers stopped in his tracks and slowly turned to face Will. "What?"

Will nodded as if to confirm his own convictions. "One thing Barney taught me was how to read a man and to trust my instincts… and my instincts are telling me that either Tobias has you buffaloed or you're in cahoots with him."

Towers sniffed, his hand reached for his gun belt. He removed it and handed it to his deputy. 'Take off your belt," he told Will.

"What?"

"I'm the head tin around here, I say take off your belt," Towers repeated.

Will unbuckled his belt and placed it on the counter. The sheriff walked over to the counter lifted the gun belt and tossed it to his other deputy. "Alright, repeat what you just said to me."

Will, straightened. "I said that…" To Will it was as if the sun had exploded. He clutched at his face as he stumbled backwards onto the counter.

"Will!" someone shouted.

He grimaced from the pain and wiped the blood from his lips. It didn't take long for him to put two and two together to realize he had been punched.

Betty started to move towards him but Will signaled for her to stop. He wiped his mouth again and stood up straight.

"Will," Betty said with a cautious tone, "this isn't a boxing match with rules. I don't think this is a situation you're ready for…"

He ignored her and he rushed at the Sheriff, which turned out to be a big mistake. Towers blocked his first attack and before Will could react, he hit him twice with a left and a right, knocking Will to the floor. Will, tried to get up to his feet only to get a boot fastened on his throat.

"Coming around my town, making wild accusations, are you trying to ruin my reputation with the good folk around here with such nonsense?"

Will had trouble getting air down his windpipe. He clawed at the Sheriff's foot, hoping to pry it off his neck.

"I'm the law here boy, I want you to say it." He leaned in harder and Will's vision started to blur.

Click

Betty pointed her pistol at the sheriff, forcing the deputies to point their guns at her. "If you go any further, I won't hesitate," she said.

Towers smiled and noticeably relieved the pressure on Will's neck but not by much. "Say it!"

Will coughed. "You're the law."

"What's my name?"

"Ken Towers!" Will wheezed. "Ken Towers is the law"

Towers removed his foot. "Marshal Wil Du my ass, they'll let any snot nosed green horn wear a badge these days." With that Towers and his deputies escorted Seth out of the door, not before handing Jenkins Will's gear.

Veronica rushed to Will's side. "Are you ok?"

He sat up, wheezing, the sides of his face felt like wood. But he was still playing over what just happened in his mind.

"Let me help you up."

Will angrily pushed her away. He picked himself off the floor, found his hat, and wordlessly staggered to the exit.

"Will," Betty said solemnly but she got no response as he pushed his way through the front doors of the hotel.

"Should we go after him?" Barnaby asked.

"I believe we should."

"No," Betty said before Veronica could move. "We need to let him work it out alone for now."

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

"Apparently the rest headed south. If we follow their trail, we should catch up to them," Willis Durant said to his boss.

Chick nodded. "It's going to get ugly now," he said as he stared at three men, horses ropes around their neck, Avery Bronson and two other young rustlers who had been found hiding out in the barn.

"You can't do this! You have no right!" cried one of the rustlers.

"Every man over six years old knows that rustling is a hanging offence!" John shouted at him.

All the attention was now on the rustlers, the men had momentarily forgotten about Ron's amazing display of gun skill. Ron himself was watching Mister Possible, who was now making his way up to Avery's horse.

"Why'd you do it Avery, the money? I could have lent you the money if you had just asked. We were friends weren't we?"

Avery smirked as he stared off into the horizon, as if he was seeing the sky for the first time. "I always imagined me and Belle sitting on the porch, grey haired, sitting in our rocking chairs….watching the sun go down. I remembered the look in her eyes when we first moved in. God she loved this ranch, she loved this land." Avery's voice had no emotion in it, his face expressionless.

"The condemned are always granted a last request. Do you have one Avery?"

Avery blinked once then turned to James. "Don't look at me with those pitiful eyes. Go home James, go home to your family." And that was all, Avery turned back to the horizon.

James silently walked away and took his place next to Chick Moore. "I'm ready when you are"

Chick nodded to Willis who started towards the horses.

"No please," cried the youngest rustler. "I've got a family back in Tennessee, I just wanted to have some fun, see the world outside my home, I never wanted to get mixed up with this bunch."

The second rustler cursed every man there with every string of obscenities he could muster as Willis took position behind the three horses.

"No please mister, I don't want to die!"

"No one ever does my boy… no one ever does." Willis elevated his rifle and fired into the air and the horses were off.

Ron flinched as the horses swept out from under the rustlers.

"Lord God," a hand breathed as the bodies tapped danced in the air as they gasped and gurgled making inhuman noises.

Ron tried to take his eyes off the grisly scene, but he found that he was frozen in place. As the men grew weaker, their movements suddenly became sluggish. Someone somewhere could be heard throwing up.

"Jesus," Bo muttered under his breath as the bodies eventually stopped moving.

"Well," Chick swallowed the lump in his throat, "do we bury them?"

James spat on the floor to get the taste out of his mouth. "Yeah… yeah we bury them."

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

Felix's bad leg twinged with a pain as it was prone to do if after every nap, he spent a moment cursing his leg and then another massaging it with his right hand, He looked at the leg brace at the foot of the bed and sighed,. The brace always took a while to put on, he had to secure it tightly and position the straps correctly so at best it wouldn't chafe something awful. At worst his leg wouldn't hold up.

Satisfied that the brace was secure Felix propped himself against the wall and slowly stood up. He limped over to his clothes and began to dress himself. Content on how he appeared in the mirror over the washbasin he made his out the door of his hotel room.

Felix walked down the street stepping carefully on the old worn out boardwalk. The last thing he needed he thought, was another accident. He came into a café and went inside for a bite to eat.

"Good, god it is you." the cook blurted as Felix a took a seat "I saw you capture Tom Calhoun last year in Austin."

Felix nodded "yea that was me……I'd like some coffee if you don't mind."

Apparently his reputation as a bounty hunter was spreading. It was funny though for most of his life a profession in bounty hunting never crossed his mind, until the incident with scarecrow of course. The west seemed like a good place for a person to hide, but that wasn't really the case. People rarely traveled alone, travelers, settlers, outlaws had to deal with each other, for food, for clothing and shelter. The reality was people eventually talked.

So obviously the easiest way to fid an outlaw was to take the outlaw trail. Those who frequented the outlaw trail were outlaws and bounty hunters who were barely tolerated by the law. Seeing how it was absurd to be a one legged outlaw, a bounty hunter was his only choice,

For two years he had been searching for Scarecrow. This hunt was the only reason for him waking up in the morning. It wasn't as if he had anything else going on his life, he didn't have a job anymore (Who'd hire or marry a one-legged man with no worth) So he put his all into the bounty hunting, every bit of effort he could muster….and because of that he was now getting himself a name.

Scarecrow had taken away the only man who didn't look at him with pity or condescension and he would have his vengeance, but what would he do after that. Maybe he'd come back down to Dallas and get a job sweeping stores, cleaning stables.

"You look like a man who hasn't smiled for a while"

Felix turned to his waitress "There was a time when I was a cheerful sort but then again time was I had the use of both my legs."

"I bet you're here for the Baxter brothers."

"The Baxters are in town huh? They're wanted for robbery in Wyoming." Felix thought it over he didn't really need the money and the Baxter brothers to his knowledge had no relation to Scarecrow.

"I hate those dang brothers there always looking at me funny, got me scared to walk the streets sometimes."

Felix clucked and pushed back his chair "maybe I can help with that, where could I find the Baxters?"

He followed her eyes to the saloon across the street "Hey now it wouldn't be wise to take them alone" she warned.

"Don't worry ma'am, I'll be back later for my coffee."

Felix slowly limped onto the street, from any angle you looked at it, he appeared to be a less than imposing figure. As it was it seemed he was using all his energy just to walk. Felix entered the bar and suddenly all the talk died out and the room became quiet.

"Hell, that's Felix Renton" said a man with a usually loud voice.

The two outlaws at the back of the bar stopped their game of pool "well, well" one of the said "if it isn't limpy the bounty hunter" they laughed.

Felix shuffled over to the pool table "well boys how about I buy you one last drink before I bring you in."

"And how you going to do that cripple? They's two of us" One of them laughed as he lined up a shot.

Felix snatched up one of the cue balls from the table "I'll thank you not to call me a cripple amigo. And I don't care if there are five of you. You're still not getting past me"

The closest outlaw to him stepped forward; Felix noted their position, one across the table from him another just an arm's distance away.

The men sitting closest to the pool table began pushing their seats away from what they were sure would be gunplay.

"I've seen the dodgers on both of you, Davy and Ray Baxter; now I really don't feel like slinging lead at anyone tonight so let's do this peaceful-like."

"What if we don't want to go to jail?"

Felix sighed "I don't think you have a choice."

"You go to hell" Ray Baxter shouted as he reached for his pistol.

Felix quickly whipped the billiard ball at Ray and it connected squarely in the nose releasing a spray of crimson from his nostrils.

Davy cussed up a storm as he watched Ray Baxter clutched at his nose. Unfortunately he took his eyes off of Felix who snatched the outlaw's gun from his leather and used it to pop him in the head knocking him unconscious.

As Ray Baxter cried at the sight of his own blood, Felix managed to makes his was way across the table and laid him out with his brother's pistol.

Felix looked down at the two men on the floor. Yeah as far as outlawing goes the Baxters weren't that impressive, but money was money.

He sighed as he took a seat and once again began to massage his aching leg. Then he glanced at the speechless bar patrons "well can someone do me a personal favor and call the sheriff. Shame but my leg really starts acting up on these windy days."

XXXXXXXX

"Money's here in this envelope but I'll need you to sign a few papers first" the town deputy said as he handed Felix an envelope. Felix took the standard hour to sign the proper legal forms for bringing in the criminals.

Felix stepped out into the boardwalk feeling slightly content now that the Baxters had insured he had enough to stay on Scarecrow's trail for another couple of weeks, although he hadn't had a fresh lead for a couple of days now.

Just as he was thinking about his next move he a commotion down the street at the hotel. He curiously limped down towards the hotel just in time to see a two burly men hurl a third man into the street.

"We done told you already stop bothering the guests!" One of the men shouted as the other tossed a suitcase near the head of the man in the street. Then they both headed back into hotel.

The man in the street coughed up a cloud of dust as he climbed to his feet. He wore a brown suit with a string tie and funny looking flat hat. He reminded Felix of a New Orleans riverboat gambler.

"Damn ignorant roughnecks…I swear there's nothing but barbarians in this godforsaken part of the wor---" He stopped when he noticed Felix across the street. He pointed at him "wait a minute now, leg brace, obviously of Spanish decent, colts at the hip, I know you." He jumped at his suitcase and threw it open revealing a wealth of paper.

He ran through the loose pages like a mad man until he apparently found what he was looking. He looked at the paper than back at Felix "Yes you can't possibly be anyone else you're Felix Renton the bounty hunter! My good friend you are just the man I need to help me traverse this roughneck terrain."

"Uh sorry I'm not looking for work" Felix began to turn away

"Wait...w….." the man said "I can help you. You're searching for the Scarecrow too aren't you? That's your story right?"

Felix whirled towards him "I am...May I ask who you might be?"

The man puffed out his chest and smiled "Jimmy Blamhammer of Pennington Publishing, I'm a writer."

"A writer?"

"Yes sir I'm sure you've seen some of my early works Typhoon Nell and Old Ironsides in the Savage Lands or Aaron Lacy the Fire Marshal in Cat on a Hot Tin Roof."

"You write dime novels?"

"Or American contemporary classics as I like to call them" Jimmy exclaimed

"……….So what do you want with Scarecrow?"

"Ah ha if that isn't the question of the hour my good man! The outlaw known as Scarecrow has captured the hearts of young Americans as far as Philadelphia. And Pennington Publishing has hired me to get his story."

"You want to write a book about Scarecrow?" Felix asked incredulously

"Outlaw stories are big in the cities back east and this Scarecrow is the big shot of the month. Now I've got most of his story from the most "credible" sources of course, but I've yet to meet the man himself"

"What does this have to with me?" Felix asked.

"Mister, folks say this country is hell on horses an' women. Well, it's hell on tenderfeet, too. I'll never make it to Scarecrow without your help."

"Ah so why should I help you, most likely I can find him myself."

Jimmy grinned from ear to ear "Ah see this is where I'm sure fate has stepped in. Before I was rudely maltreated, I was the in the middle of a few inquires when a young woman approached me."

"And?"

"She didn't speak English, but I swear she was drawn to me because she heard name Scarecrow." He glanced back at the hotel "now if I take you to her do I have your word that you'll be my escort."

"Yes you have my word" Felix said aggressively "But you must know that I'm planning to weigh the Scarecrow down with lead don't you?"

"Even better!" Blamhammer exclaimed "tragedies sell like hotcakes…American hero captured in the tide of youthful rebellion, seeking freedom and adventure only to be gunned down in his prime….It's perfect!" He glanced back at the hotel "there she is!"

Felix pushed past Jimmy and moved quickly towards the Mexican woman who stepped out of the hotel "Hola senorita!" he called.

She turned "¿Quiere usted saber acerca de Espantapájaros?"

Felix nodded excitedly "Si…Si soy un amigo bueno de su, yo lo he estado buscando para siempre.!"

Jimmy pulled a pencil and a blank page from his suitcase from his suitcase and stumbled forward towards Felix and the woman.

"What is she saying? What's she saying?"

"A few months ago she used to work at a boarding house in Texas …." Felix said without taking his eyes of the girl "….there was a gunfight…..she's says the Scarecrow and his friends got ambushed by bandits in front of the building…..she and one of the other boarding girls got caught in the crossfire….and" Felix stopped ¿Está usted seguro?

"What? What happened?" Jimmy shouted.

"She says….that the Scarecrow tried to push the girl out of the way of the gunfire but unfortunately she got hit anyway…..although he had a bandanna over his face she saw his eyes above the …..he looked so sad she says……but then he stood in front of her as he and his friends finished off the bandits…..after that they rode out of town."

"How exciting, adventure, tragedy and intrigue, beautiful" Jimmy said as he took notes.

"That's not all" Felix said with slight treble in his voice "she says that night Scarecrow snuck back to town and offered to pay for the girl's funeral……He gave the head of the boarding house money to send to the girl's family." Felix thought about it, this wasn't the first time he heard of Scarecrow's supposedly altruistic activities. He found that he felt conflicted about said tales.

"AMAZING an outlaw with a heart of gold, it's compelling and endearing. It'll be my greatest book ever…I'll sell thousands!"

Felix ignored the giddy writer and returned to his conversations. Jimmy watched as the two conversed for what seemed like an eternity. Finally he saw a smile come to Felix's face.

"Gracias Senorita" Felix said eventually and the girl walked back into the hotel.

"What, what, what!"

Felix ran his hands across "Middlewood, Colorado"

"Middlewood, that's where he's at? Middlewood?"

"Come on we've got to prepare, we're leaving tonight…wait I need to buy some ammunition."

For a man with a less then perfect left leg Felix deftly blew past Jimmy and headed down the street.

"Hey hold on" Jimmy ran up to catch up to Felix "my you sure are in a rush, are you even sure you can beat the Scarecrow?"

"I know I can, and as I writer you should know it too"

"What?"

"In every yarn I've ever read the bad guys always die" Felix replied

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

The scout raised his horse as he approached Dub Wilson "You're right Dub it was gunshots. I saw then burying some of our boys back at the spread. I saw it through my spy glass."

"Just as I thought….we're being tailed by a bunch of sheep being led by a lobo wolf."

Trip Conner spat on the ground "So what do we do now?"

"What we do best" Dub grinned "we dry gulch them…the way I see it sheep being led by a wolf deserve to be slaughtered.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

Chick Moore and James Possible rode abreast a few yards ahead of the rest of the pack as they slowly rode along in silence. Ron was surprised yet grateful that none of them had inquired him about his shooting. That would soon change he thought but right now the hangings were still they're minds. For most of these men it was the first time they had seen someone killed and in such a violent manner to boot. They had tasted blood for the first time and it made them sick

Suddenly James Possible stopped his horse and turned it around "I want to say something before things get….get worse……this isn't….this isn't what I hired you all for and if anyone wants to back out now they can. No one will forget how you tried to go after these criminals and if anything happens to me, Anne will gladly pay you what you're owed.

The cowhands didn't say a word as they glanced back and forth at each other. John was the first one to move he gigged his horse forward and tipped his hat to his employer as he rode past continuing on down the trail after Chick Moore. Then as if part of a parade the other hands followed suit, with Ron being the last one to pass by.

"I reckon you've got your answer Mister P"

James took a deep breath "I reckon I have…" he turned to Ron "how do you feel son, right now how do you feel?"

"Feel?" Ron looked down at the ground first then back at James, looking him straight in the eyes "I feel sick to my stomach." He gave a faint smile

"Yeah" James lifted his head to the setting sun in the horizon "Avery saw something out there in horizon. He couldn't keep his eyes off it till the very end….I don't know what it was, I probably never will." He turned his horse around "look here Ronald a man's past is his own business, maybe I am naïve for thinking the best of people, and I'm not going to pretend to know who you are, but you've been good to my family and you've been good to the brand. You're out here risking your neck, backing the play of a man you've recently met...That makes you a good man in my book and that's all I need."

James put his boots to his horse and rode forward leaving Ron behind speechless. He had never seen anything like it; these Possibles were a rare breed, especially the daughter. Ron took in the scenery as he continued to ride on. Speaking of Kim he found that these beautiful rolling hills were about as green as her eyes. He should know he looked her straight in eye when she looked at him and he couldn't help but like what he saw there, behind those pools of green.

"Whoa hold on….where did that come from?" He said aloud. Ron wondered about this as Kip broke into a verse of Sweet Adeline.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

It was quiet among the oaks and cottonwoods as the cowhands settled near a small stream. Some of the men dipped their handkerchiefs into the cool stream and used it to wipe their brow.

Bo and Stanly watched as Ron dismounted from his horse as it lowered its head into the stream for a drink. He patted it on the head and strolled aimlessly into the nearby wooded area.

"Quick as a reflex that boy, never seen anything like it" Bo said.

"No normal man has that kind of gunplay. That was the work of a professional gunman. What do you say John you're the foreman after all?"

John looked towards where Ron had dismounted and then at James Possible who was in the middle of a conversation with Chick Moore. "The big man seems to like him, and I reckon I've taken a shine to the boy. The way I see it he's a Circle C hand just like you and me."

Bo and Stanley nodded in agreement.

"It's just about dark, things will get harder for here on out" Chick Moore stated. James was about to reply when Ron's horse suddenly lifted its head from the water, nervously stamped a front hoof, grunted, and then strangely enough trotted into the area Ron had disappeared.

James was about to dismiss the strange occurrence when he noticed some movement in a nearby thicket.

"Jesus it's an ambush" he thought but before he could get a word out cackling outlaw leaped from the thicket, shot gun in hand, and fired. James heard the horrifying smack of the slug that slammed into Chick's chest. Chick Moore didn't shout in pain he was dead before he hit the ground.

Within seconds over two dozens guns blazed back and forth wit less than thirty feet between them breaking the peaceful tranquility of the land.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

The lighting of a sulfur match caught Ron's eye, he had wanted to be alone to get his thoughts together but it looked as if he wasn't going to get his wish.

"Dub Wilson this is a surprise."

Dub Wilson stepped from behind a tree and lit his cigarette "Set you off your feed didn't I?" He blew out a blast of smoke "Hey pard, been a long, long time."

Gunshots could be heard coming from the camp, "looks like the ball has already started." Dub drawled.

Ron took a half step back "whoa now," Dub grinned "don't go nowhere we've got business to settle you and me."

"I don't think so….Dub we don't really have to fight here…You can just walk away"

Dub shook his head "Walk away after you killed four of my pards… Now I can't do that"

It felt like there was a bale of cotton in his mouth "I wish I could believe you were actually fighting for your friends Dub. Than what you're doing here would have some meaning"

"I don't understand you Cooley….what kind of gunman are you? Don't you know you have a reputation to live up too?"

"Or live down too" Ron joked

"You're a disgrace" Dub spat "now I won't to see the real Scarecrow, show me who you really are. Pull on me."

"Why are you doing this?"

"You know why dammit, with your name under my belt. I'll be close to being known as the best."

"Ah! So that's how the land lays. Trust me you don't really want it….the reputation…..it's not worth it."

Dub stepped forward "Oh yes it is, I'll become a legend, they're going to write books about me someday. Now I'm tired of all this gum flapping…..draw!"

Ron inched backwards "if you want bullets to fly, you're going have to lead in this dance."

"You think I won't"

"I hope you won't. What I did to your friends...I had to protect Mister Possible and the others. This fight here is unnecessary."

"It's very necessary."

"One of us doesn't have to die today." Ron protested.

"We all die Scarecrow…some of us long before our time. You're going to prove this point."

The gunshots were getting worse, Ron had to get back to James "all right Dub I'll give you what you want. We'll go on three"

Dub licked his lips hungrily "One" Ron started.

"Two…you're going to be remembered Dub….every time I close my eyes and lay down to sleep I'll see your face."

"I hear you talking but you ain't made it to three"

Ron and Dub's hands inched towards their revolvers "Thr----" Abruptly Ron's horse came galloping into the clearing.

"What the hell?" Dub cried as Ron's horse reined up near him breaking up his concentration. He turned away from the horse to see Ron sprinting in the opposite direction.

"Damn you, you yella bastard!" Dub shouted after him

XXXXXX

Rustlers rose from their concealment on all sides. Two rushed from behind an oak only to be brought down by a blast of Bo's shotgun.

"Christ we're surrounded" Stanley yelled as he snapped a shot at another "John. John, where's the boss?"

John did not hear Stanley he had just seen Kip get hit in the back and he was in a terrible rage. He was firing his rifle as fast as he could at as many running shapes as he could. Billy was visibly shaken as he fired a shot that slammed into an outlaw's chest sending him backwards into the stream.

Bo shouted as he saw Silias go down in a spray of blood two bullets hitting him at once. Bo turned towards the murderers but he was brought down by another shot that grazed his head. All around him bodies continued to hit the ground.

James Possible reloaded his pistol with bullets whistling by his head he managed to fire five shots as quickly as he could, not even taking a moment to set his feet

"Look out" Ron shouted as an outlaw took aim at James. Ron tackled him to the ground just as the outlaw fired, missing them both completely. Ron rolled once he hit the ground, cocked and aimed at the outlaw who was more interested in him now then James. They fired at the same time, the outlaw's bullet grazed Ron by the cheek but Ron's bullet sent the outlaw writing in pain clutching his stomach.

"Let's go!" Ron grabbed James by the arm "come on!" He kept firing as James followed him towards the more wooden areas, where they could find cover. With his right Colt depleted Ron switched to his left, one shot connected with a rustler in the forehead, pivioting his hips he fired unloaded his next six shots onrushing rustlers.

Ron pulled James towards the trees as he attempted to reload his Colt. "Get behind the tress!" Ron pushed James forward when he suddenly tripped over a rock than size of an acorn, causing his gun to slip from his hand.

_Crap what a time to get clumsy._

Just then a large shadow fell over him, Ron crawled frantically towards his gun when he felt someone grab him by the collar and pulled him up from the floor.

Ron looked into the eyes of an overly excited Shod Collins. "Hey Mister Gunman let's see how you fare without your tools."

Ron didn't even see the first blow land, it sent him reeling. Ron threw a punch at the large man but eh deflected the attack and smashed his fist into Ron's stomach forcing the air from his body.

_My guns I need my guns _Ron scrambled for his revolver. But Shod cut him off and with forearm shot to his back knocking Ron back down to the ground. Shod stood over him and struck him in the face once and then twice.

Ron attempted to push the large man off but his strength failed him_….I can't believe it I'm nothing without my guns…nothing…._

His vision started to blur when Shod struck him again._ I thought all gunmen were supposed to die in a hail of bullets. Live by the gun die by the gun that's how it's supposed to be… _Shod reached into his vest and pulled out a sharp hunting knife. He brought the knife to Ron's chest _I can't help but feel a little disappointed….. _

In slow motion Ron watched as Shod started to bring the knife down on him when a shot rang out and his head violently snapped backwards. Blood and brain matter splattered across the moss on the tree trunks as Shod's body fell unceremoniously to the ground.

Through blurry eyes Ron saw James Possible stand over his Shod's and empy his pistol into the body until the hammer clicked on a spent cartridge.

His breathing heavy and with sweat pouring down his face James somberly stared at the body.

_Killing changes a man don't let anyone tell you different. It makes you an outsider._

"Are you ok Cooley?" he said to Ron. He looked at Ron with the same kindness he always looked at him.

Ron's felt him self sinking into darkness "Stoppable"

"What?"

"My name is Ronald Stoppable" Ron answered with a smile before he blacked out.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

"Oh you are back I see" Monique smiled as Kim re-renter the saloon "Where were you off too?"

"Oh I had a few errands to run"

"You know for someone who doesn't drink or gamble, you sure do spend a long time here."

"Well I thought I'd keep you company…" she glanced back at Virgil Duval _and keep, an eye on a few things._

Kim scanned the large saloon "what happened to the sheriff?"

"Sheriff stepped out for a moment, said he be back as soon as possible. And I hope he does I think he was the only one keeping the peace in here."

Both woman turned when they heard a loud whoop from Virgil's table "well as long as your here how about a game of darts."

"I'd love too" Kim replied

Virgil tossed back a drink, emptying the shot glass. Then he settled, filled his glass again and said "everything got out of hand, he suckered punch me you know. I could have handled him if he didn't sucker punch me." Cray Shaw nodded in agreement as he dealt out the playing cards among the six men at the table.

Curly Thomas had a troubled look on his face as he saw Virgil throw back another glass "Hey Virgil how about we go back to the café' and get ourselves some dinner."

"I already ate dinner" Virgil bellowed "coffee and whisky that's my dinner dammit!" The other players were getting visibly annoyed at his drunken hollering

"Stranger my ass, he was a cheat and a coward! If I ever see that mangy coyote again…I"

"Sure, sure" Cray said "now how about we concentrate on this game."

"Oh yes the game, I should be a school master because I'm going to teach you boys a lesson."

"Just like the way the stranger taught you a lesson" A frustrated townsman muttered under his breath.

"What did you say?" Virgil slurred

"Hold on now Virgil, remember what Louis said we ain't supposed to cause no more trouble." Curly yelled

But it was too late Virgil pulled out a hidden pistol that was strapped to his back, the townsman cried out as the pistol barrel swiped across his face.

"Jesus" Cray shouted.

Virgil pounced upon the townsman "Virgil no! The sheriff…."

"Hobble your lip Curly!" Virgil screamed. He shook the townsman violently, as he raged out of control "I asked you a question you son of a bi" he swiped the barrel across the other side of the man's face.

Virgil stood up straight, kicked the man on the floor, and took aim. He was set to take squeeze the trigger when a steel tip dart embed itself in the back of his hand.

He cried out in horror as he dropped his gun to the floor. He pulled the dart from his hand looked towards the bar and there he saw Kim staring back him. It was her, he didn't how but he knew.

"You…." he sputtered. He made a break towards her "you brazen whore!!!'" He came at here with his fist raised. Once he was an arm's length away he brought his fist down at her head. Kim immediately sidestepped the attack causing his fist to smash down on the bar; deftly she snatched a shot glass of whiskey off the bar and threw into his face.

Both of Virgil's hands reached towards his burning eyes, capitalizing on the opportunity Kim sent a well placed kick into Virgil's most private of areas. He whimpered softly before collapsing to the ground in crumpled heap.

"Goodness!" Monique exclaimed "did you have to hit him there?"

Kim turned to Monique "Those without manners need to learn some….and besides he called me a whore some insults cannot be abided."

"What's going on here?" Sheriff Barkin stepped into the room "I step out for a bit and all hell breaks out!"

"Virgil Duval went plumb crazy" said one of the salon girls.

"He, pistol whipped Harry Sack for no good reason and he was set to beat on Miss Possible" shouted a townsman.

"He should hang for this" another shouted.

"Now everyone settle, there won't any mob law in my town" Barkin strolled up to the moaning Vigil Duval "That's assault Virgil; you're going up against a judge this time."

Kim watched as Curly nodded to Cray before rushing out the door. She couldn't help but feel that things were going to get worse, and she'd be ready when it did.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

Stanly knelt over Kip's riddled body and he made the sign of the cross. "I didn't take you for the religious type" Billy sniffed as he wiped the tears from his eyes.

Stanly kept his eyes on the body "I am when it comes to dying Billy."

Bo leaned against a tree as one of Chick Moore's hands treated the gash his head.

"Looks somebody creased you Bo, don't worry I used to work under this doctor in Missouri. He was an interesting fellow he only prescribed one thing for his patients whiskey."

Bo chuckled but then he became sullen as he looked down the bodies "this reminds me of Liberty Springs Virginia back in the winter of sixty four."

The hand looked up "You were at Liberty Springs?"

"I was under Brigadier General Alfred Thomas Arcamides Torbert," Bo said proudly

"Well I was under Lieutenant General Jubal Anderson Early."

"You were a dirty Johnny Reb?" Bo exclaimed.

"You were a damn stinkin Yank!" the hand cried out. They both stared at each for a moment before breaking into laughter as the cowboy continued to treat Bo's head "Don't that beat all, you in the mood for a smoke Bo" he said.

"Smoke! Me? Hell I'll give you my horse for a cigar."

James Possible sat down on a log his face in his hands when John slowly approached "Luckily we only lost Kip and Silias, Antonio's hurt be he should make it."

James said nothing

"Chick Moore's dead and…..most of the causalities…..came from his spread, eight men dead so far."

"What about the rustlers?"

"We got those bushwhacking bastards. The one's that didn't get shot are human fruit."

"So….."

"So what?"

"Do we bury them or do we leave them for the buzzards?"

"We shot them….we bury them" James told his foreman. He sighed "I'm just happy it's finally over" James than looked over his shoulders "where's Stop--- Cooley?"

Ron staggered into the forest still not completely over his recent beating. He leaned against a tree to hold himself up. Dub Wilson wasn't among the dead, he had to find him and finish what they had started before Dub hurts anyone else. But Dub was nowhere to be seen he must have escaped.

Ron stopped when he heard a noise bushes. "Hey pard" he said when his horse trotted to him "I'm sorry I had to run out on you there boy but…" A knife handle that jutted out of tree trunk caught his attention. He walked towards the knife, there was something scrawled beneath it.

He read it aloud "Show me Scarecrow or I'll see Red? What does that me…oh god no…"

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

"The way I see it Virgil's going to get personal with a judge real soon." Cray Shaw told Louis Wilson as he and Curly Thomas stood alone in a livery barn.

"I say we break Virgil out, rob the bank and tree this whole damn town, make our mark right here" Curly advised.

Louis contemplated the situation "that part I like, treeing the town. Every newspaper in the region will be writing about us….but what about the cattle."

"Forget the cattle this town is bursting with money!"

"How many men we have in town?" Louis asked.

"I reckon about fourteen" Cray stated.

"That's enough to tree the town but not enough to keep Chick Moore and James' Possible's boys from hunting us down." He rubbed his hands together "Curly head on back to the spread. I want all the boys in town by tomorrow. We'll set ourselves a trap. We take the town and when word gets back to the ranches, they'll ride in here and we'll blow them to hell. Then we ride out of here with all the money in the bank and we can treat ourselves to any breeding bulls we find at the ranches."

"Now that's what I call a plan!" Cray laughed.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

A gas lamp in his hand Wade entered a lone cabin that was located about two hours away from the Possible ranch. Once in the cabin he entered the closet and there he found a well-like passage where weathered steps had been carved into the sandstone. He climbed down the shaft and found himself in a large roomy cave. He quickly realized that there were lit lamps lined up around the cave walls.

Someone was already there.

"Wade!" Kim shouted as she covered her body with her shirt.

"Oh God" he covered his eyes "I didn't know you were already here….I'll come back later." He retreated back towards the steps.

Kim shook her head and turned back to the mirror. She wrapped a tight binder made from strong fabric around her chest area. Then she threw a one of her father's larger shirt over the binder. A moment later she tied her hair up in a bun and placed her hat over it.

She looked her self over in the mirror "Howdy pilgrim" she coughed "Howdy pilgrim" she said with a deeper voice.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

Ron's horse thundered across the plains as he pushed it forward "Come on boy, come on" If Dub laid one hand on her……

_You want to see Scarecrow, Dub I'll show you scarecrow. And it might be the last thing you ever see. _

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

Barkin peeked through his curtains and he immediately spotted two men standing across the street watching his building. "Looks like them boys are on the shoot tonight."

"I'm obliged for the company old man, but you should go home" he told Lunsford who was watching the sleeping Virgil Duval in the cell.

"That man sure did a number on poor Harry. I'm worried Sheriff there's a dark cloud hanging over the town tonight."

Barking continued to stare out the window "You feel that tension. It was just like this when I was in the 15th Maine Infantry as we marched towards Fort Esperanza. We could see and hear cannons firing in the distance, the devil's lightning some people called it. We knew we were headed towards a fight…that's the kind tension I'm feeling right now."

"Don't be such an old croaker. The town'll be fine…. I know what'll ease your mind Sheriff" Lunsford offered Barkin a drink from his spare canteen.

Barkin gladly took the canteen "What's going to become of our town?" he said before taking a drink.

* * *

A/N 1) So what do you think did the hangings turn anyone off. I tried to keep it as tasteful as possibly 

2) I tried to give Felix some definition here (some of you were not too impressed by him before)...so you'll have to tell me if I did a better job with him.

3) Ron killing: I feel that some of you would have a problem with this but this is his character...I'd like to hear some feedback on him

4) Will Du subplot: Anyone give a darn

5) Tobias: Got some background love it, hate it?

6) Next chapter is the end of this rustling "arc" so it should go out with a bang. Stay tuned


	8. The Good, The Bad, And the Beautiful

A/N _Just a small town girl, livin' in a lonely world. She took the midnight train goin' anywhere...Just a city boy, born and raised in South Detroit. He took the midnight train goin' anywhere... A singer in a smoky room, the smell of wine and cheap perfume for a smile they can share the night. It goes on and on and on and on... Strangers waiting, up and down the boulevard. Their shadows searching in the night, Streetlight, people, living just to find emotion. Hiding, somewhere in the night. Working hard to get my fill, everybody wants a thrill. Payin' anything to roll the dice, just one more time. Some will win, some will lose, some were born to sing the blues. Oh the movie never ends; it goes on and on and on and on._

**_Don't stop believin'  
Hold on to that feelin'  
Streetlight people!!!_**

Welcome back folks to the FANNIE AWARD WINING (For Best AU) Middlewood.(I apologize for the delay.)

Folks I never thought this thing would take off like this. At the most I thought it would get a couple of readers because really who knew people wanted to read a KP western?

And I know I haven't been perfect, I've made a few historical errors and my grammar and spelling (as usual if you follow my stories) have been anything but fantastic. But you dear readers not only did you stick around and you voted for this story sniff

For anyone who voted….Thank You Very Much…..And another very grateful...thank you for everyone who's reading right now.

Ok let's get started…..Huge chapter this time around longest thing I've ever written on this site period, so you'll need some time to yourself….the end of this arc folks with more to come….Flashbacks in **bold.**

* * *

Seven Years Ago: Caprock Texas 

**Marshal Barney Director had his eyes closed. But in his mind's eye, he could still the interior of the Manor's House hotel room. Polished oak nightstands on each side of the bed, a complimentary bottle of whiskey and crystal glasses on the right night stand, beside that was a fully supplied writing desk near windows with lace curtains. There was a large over stuffed chair in the corner where his wife Betty sat facing the sofa against the next wall where the Widow Alter and her thirteen year old daughter were currently seated.**

**The marshal opened his eyes, stood up, walked over to the bottle of whiskey, and poured himself a large glass.**

"**They found her the next morning, in a ditch," Missus Alter managed to choke out as Betty attempted to console her. "She was nekkid, her neck was broke, and the doc says that, they had, those animals..." She couldn't do anymore but break down into tears.**

**Barney took a sip of the whiskey, as expected from a forty dollar a day hotel, it was of top quality. He turned to Missus Alter; months ago her seventeen year old daughter had been kidnapped and murdered by a drunken crowd of masked cattlemen. They had taken the eldest daughter in the middle of the night after shooting the father in front of the entire family. **

**It was the breaking point of a feud between ranchers and sheep herders. He took another sip. It went down smooth.**

"**We've heard…." said Martha Alter. The middle child speaking up for her distraught mother, "…….that Joseph Connelly has hired his son, a big city lawyer from the East."**

**Director sighed. "Dennison…I've seen him in action in Dallas and in Ohio, got more twists and turns than a sack full of knotted garden snakes, and he won't care less if his client is innocent or guilty."**

"**But how, evil men like Randy do not deserve such help!" Martha cried. **

**Betty looked at them solemnly. "I'm sorry, but they're entitled to legal representation. If lawyers refused to defend people like the Connelly brand, our justice system wouldn't work for any of us."**

**Alter looked up at Barney. "Is there a chance that they'll get off?"**

**Marshal Director said nothing but the message came through loud and clear to everyone in the room. **

"**Isn't there anything you can do?"**

**Missus Alter silenced hr daughter with a simple pat of the knee. "Well I'm tuckered out marshal, I thank ya for everything you've done for us but maybe its time we said our fare the wells."**

"**Don't worry ma'am," he said as the defeated family walked towards the door, "justice will be served one way or the other."**

**A moment later, Barney pushed the lace curtains of the window to the side. He watched as the Alters stepped onto the street down below. A deep sigh escaped his lips when a pair of arms wrapped around his waist from behind. **

**Betty gently placed her head on her husband's back "What are you going to do?" **

**He brought his gaze up to the night sky. "The stars out there make the world seem like a peaceful place. But maybe it's just an illusion; the world can never be peaceful with men like the Connelly's running around."**

**Director about-faced and embraced his wife. "You know he's under the bed right?"**

"**Who's….." a look of realization came over her face and it was followed by a one of fury.**

**She stomped huffily towards the large canopy topped four-poster bed. She reached under it and pulled Will Du out by the left ear.**

"**Why you……I guess common sense in this boy is as scarce as hen's teeth!"**

"**Oh come on, don't start jawing at me again, this is vital for my career as a Marshal." Betty twisted his ear, forcing him to cry out in pain.**

"**I told you once and I'll tell you again. Never eavesdrop on adult conversations!"**

**Barney smiled as he took another sip of whiskey. **

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

**Three weeks later: **

"**Drinks are on me," Joseph Connelly's yelp could be heard all the way to the edge of town. A recent not guilty verdict for his son and his cowhands had lit a fire under the old rancher, it was time to celebrate and money would not be an obstacle.**

**An equally loud whoop followed Joseph's declaration but the impromptu party was soon crashed by uninvited guests. The four piece fiddle orchestra came to a screeching halt when Marshal Director, his four deputies and the local sheriff marched into the saloon.**

"**Alright boys, this here fiesta is over!"**

"**Well lookie here," someone from the back called. Joseph Connelly stepped up to the bar, "you here to congratulate us Marshal?" Joseph shifted his attention to his son who currently had one of the bar's doves on his lap. "I told you I wouldn't let my boy be hung marshal, you should have believed me, it would have saved us a whole mess of time," he sneered.**

**Director scanned the room. The seven cowhands who had been on trial, including Randy Connelly, were in the saloon, but now there was now an additional six men currently celebrating with them, and they all appeared to be professional criminals. Joseph was one of the richest ranchers in the west, he could afford the best legal representation for is son, compound that with the fact that he was rumored to be hiring a small army meant that soon enough Randy would be untouchable.**

"**I see you found yourself some fresh fish Mister Connelly."**

"**I figure with all the mad lawdogs running about, I'd add a few new hands to protect my blood." **

**Director laughed. "I don't see why you'd waste all your money protecting a no account, murdering pile of coyote puke, even if he was your blood." The deputies and the local sheriff swiftly spread out from behind the Marshal, taking position beside him.**

**Rodney Connelly slapped the dove on the behind and she giddily hopped off his lap. "Marshal, you seem real eager to turn this into a gunfight. But its not going to happen, we're all law abiding citizens here, we want to do whatever it takes to be obliging." **

**Barney looked into Rodney's eyes; they were hard, cold and unforgiving. He wasn't the type to stop because he had almost been caught. There was only one way to deal with men like that.**

"**You boys need to shuck a light out of town right now; the good people here don't want anything to do with you."**

"**You trying to run us out of town Marshal? We got every right to be here!"**

"**You lost all your rights when you killed that girl. But I guess beaten on women is natural for lowlife lizards such as yourself."**

"**I was found innocent!"**

"**On technicalities! You lot are about as innocent as the devil on All Hallows' Eve. Now hustle yourselves out of this town before I buffalo you out with my bare hands."**

"**Oh lordy, leads about to fly!" The bartender cried as he dove under the bar for cover.**

**Nostrils flaring, Rodney leaped to his feet. He reached for his guns when someone hollered from outside.**

"**Stop right there!" A skinny man in an expensive suit stepped into the saloon. He pointed to Rodney "I am John Thomson Dennison Esquire. And that is my client. You won't be shedding any unnecessary and innocent blood today constable; he is protected by the law and by the ideals of justice!"**

**Director glanced wearily at the lawyer.**

"**Your grievous misuse of power has come to an end sir. My client and his group have the rights of any man to frequent this fine establishment. Now anymore you have to say to my client or these gentlemen must be spoken to me on their behalf."**

"**Gentlemen?" Blackthorne snorted and shook his head **

**One of the more recent cowhands stepped up beside Rodney and guffawed heartily. "You look fit to be tied Marshal," he bellowed.**

**Director ignored him. "Hear this Connelly, you can run but you can't hide. I plan to uphold law and justice law in my jurisdiction or beyond it."**

**Rodney stepped forward and spat, his spittle landing relatively close to Barney Director's boots. "Guess what Marshal, the law works for everyone. Today it worked for the Connelly's." **

**The cowboy besides Rodney hooted. "Boy all I've heard was what a tough hombre this marshal was but this lawyer shore jerked a knot in is tail."**

**Frustrated Barney quickly cut the gap between them. "Shut your goddang mouth outlaw, you just happen to be drawing more flies than an outhouse,"**

**The cowboys face turned bright red with anger, he reached for his belt, but before he could clear the holster; the marshal struck him with a thunderous right to the jaw. The cowboy fell in a heap at Rodney's feet.**

"**This man is under arrest for the attempted murder of a peace officer." Director announced. Quickly, three of his deputies snatched the outlaw by the arms and legs and hauled him out of the saloon.**

**Barney returned his attention to Rodney. "Play this out anyway you want, in the end I'm going to be looking down at the soles of your boots." With that, he walked out of the saloon, Blackthorne and the sheriff followed suit.**

"**Tarnation, do you know who you just knocked out?" The local sheriff asked. "That was Two Gun Tommy."**

"**He looked familiar," Director said as they marched down the boardwalk. "Gunmen by trade I reckon, I don't really recall why he's wanted though."**

"**You don't recall?" The sheriff cried in amazement. "He killed close to ten men, if you don't recall who he was; then why did you strike him down for?"**

"**It had nothing to do with his record; what happened was he just talked to dang much."**

**Blackthorne roared with laughter **

**Suddenly Barney paused in the middle of the street, pivoted to his left and continued walking. "Excuse me boys." **

"**Where you off to now?" Blackthorne inquired. He looked on curiously as the Marshal entered the ladies fashion store across the street from the saloon and then returned a second later dragging Will by the collar.**

**Blackthrone shook his head for the second time. "How are you doing son?"**

"**I'm the very essence of adolescence as always sir." **

"**Will, I could have sworn Betty took you out riding today."**

"**I sprung out on her, I couldn't miss out on this, it's good experience for me." **

**Barney sighed. "You're going to give that woman a conniption fit, for a fact."**

XXXXXXXXXXXXXX

**A month later:**

**Will quietly crept into the Director's parlor room and discreetly ducked behind a couch as Betty adjusted Barney's collar and tie in the middle of the room. **

"**Not many women can say they're married to the handsomest lawman in the west." **

"**You wouldn't be the least bit prejudiced, now would you Betty?"**

"**Not at all, you're as handsome as the day we married."**

"**I can say the same thing about you, cept you're as pretty as the day we first met."**

**She kissed him lightly on the lips. "Well you tell some mighty tall tales Barney Director, but do continue."**

**His smiled, looked towards the door and sighed. "A marshal and his deputies secretly running with outlaws, it doesn't seem right anyway you look at it."**

**Betty brushed some cat fur off her husband's shoulder. "Rodney Connelly and his gang are holed up in Hell's Pot Canyon. There's only one way in and that'll be guarded like a federal bank. The only way to get the drop on them is through some a secret outlaw trail. As logic dictates, if you want to find an outlaw trail, you'll need either to be an outlaw or have other outlaws take you to it."**

"**It just doesn't feel right."**

"**You don't have to go; Rodney and his bunch can't lay low forever. He'll have to come out sometime."**

"**First thing he'll do when he's out is find another young girl to maul. What he did to that gal was beyond criminal……."**

"**But," Betty said continuing exactly what her husband was thinking, "Rodney is innocent according to the law, you've got no right going after him or provoking this fight."**

"**Ah there be the rub….." he exhaled. "I've asked around; and feud or no feud, Missus Alter's daughter may have not been the first gal to catch that boy's eye and disappear. It's just never been proven. If I let that animal run loose, it'll be like spitting on everything I ever believed in. This badge I wear means I have to uphold law and order." He looked down solemnly at his badge. "But sometimes the law can get in the way of truth and justice……." **

**Betty cupped his hands into hers. He smiled again "Is it up to me to decide what justice is….no….but a man's got to back his best judgment and I'm backing mine."**

**Abruptly, Blackthorne stepped into the house, his hat in his hands. He greeted Betty first and then Barney. "The boys are waiting outside and so are our special "guests". They'll take us wherever we want, granted that we forget a few past grievances committed against the great state of Texas."**

"**Of course." The marshal took another glance at his badge, reached down and removed the pin. He held the badge in his hand for a moment and then he placed it into the hands of his wife. "I may believe I'm doing the right thing, but I still won't be able to sleep at night with this on."**

**Betty received the badge graciously. "I'll be back for that," he told her.**

"**You better." They kissed once more before Barney made his way to the door. "Oh and the boy is behind the couch."**

"**Oh I know; once you're gone. I'll be on him quicker than a striking snake." **

**They both laughed at the loud groan coming from behind the couch**.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

Jenkins wiped his face down with a handkerchief. "This part of the world is terribly barbaric, isn't it? I don't know how you can stand it madam!"

Veronica simply grinned. "I'm quite accustomed to it Jenkins. If you care for a bath, there's one behind the boarding house. It's quite functional, but I recommend you bring your own soap."

"Eh Gads!"

Betty, who sat on the other side of the room, started to snicker when Will burst into the room. Both sides of his cheek were bruised, his bottom lip was more than a little busted.

He took a moment to let his abrupt entrance have the desired effect as everyone in the room took notice of him. "Of course I have a plan," he announced.

Betty stood up. "Well I see the fire hasn't gone out of your eyes."

"If you think a fluke beating would be enough to stop my ambitions than you don't know me at all. Come on downstairs, I'll let you in on my brilliance."

Betty followed him out of the door.

Jenkins turned to Veronica. "What in heavens was that about?"

Before she could respond, Will reentered the room. Without saying a word, he pulled the badge from his chest and tossed it in Veronica's direction.

She snatched the badge out of the air. "What in the world?"

"If you can just keep that safe for awhile, I'll be much obliged….Oh, and you'll be a vital part of my plan so get a good nights rest. Tomorrow will be an important day." After that he was back out the door.

Puzzled Veronica stared down at the deputy marshal badge in her hand.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

Will and Betty entered the Creyer Creek General Store; which happened to also double as the town pharmacy; wide eyed and with bright smiles

A stocky clerk stepped into their field of vision. "Well if it isn't the young tinhorn who got his plow cleaned by the sheriff."

Will lowered his head to cover his anger as he forced himself to chuckle. "Yes, the sheriff did do quite a number on me. But you wouldn't expect any less from a man of his experience. But I'm not the sort of the man to make a fuss about that sort of thing."

"The sheriff ain't the type to shin out of the way of danger."

"Right as a trivet, my good friend, right as a trivet."

"So what can I do for you?" The clerk asked.

Will eyed the shelf behind the counter where various bottles of medicines where being kept. "My good man, I've come to dicker with you over a weapon of the derringer variety."

The clerk sneered. "Derringer? Most of the men around here carry guns that are man size."

"It's not for me, it's for my mother here, she's a California widow and I'd feel better knowing that she had some protection in this cold cruel world," he whispered to the clerk.

Betty performed a curtsey. "My son has been teaching me how to shoot. I hope to the almighty that I never actually have to use such a skill."

"It's a good son who looks after his mother, especially such a young and pretty mother at that."

"Oh you're so kind good sir."

"I believe I can help you good folks out, I may have something you might want to take a look at. We can go fetch it in the back and you can pick one out."

"I'll stay out here if you don't mind," Will declared reaching his pocket. "I'll just get my money ready for your return.'

The clerk seemed more than please with this decision. "Shore, no problem. I reckon the lady can pick out a good one on her own."

When Betty and the clerk disappeared into the back room, Will hopped over the counter and scanned the medicine shelves. It didn't take him long to find a jug of chloral hydrate. He placed a napkin on the counter, popped the cork and poured some of the salts onto the napkin. He then quickly wrapped the napkin up and stuffed it into his pocket as he placed the bottle back in its place.

He hopped back over the counter just as Betty and the clerk returned. "Your ma has a good eye, picked a out a Remington Double Derringer, .41 rimfire cartridge. Nice practical weapon."

"A lucky guess I suppose," Betty said sheepishly.

They paid for the weapon and ammunition and made their way out of the store. Swiftly, they crossed the street, "Will, I must say this is a mighty interesting plan, it's not up to your usual style, but it better work because I seem to have a date for the church social this weekend."

Will grinned. "We do what we have to for the sake of justice. As for my style, trust me, I'd prefer to tackle this thing head on but…." His voice trailed off. Betty understood that Will's pride wouldn't allow him to say anything more.

"I'm going to be honest, I wondered if this would become a setback for you."

" Sheriff Towers is right about one thing, he's witnessed a lot of things in his life, and that's a natural fact. But I've seen the bodies of families who were shot to pieces as they tried to escaped from houses set on fire by nightriders, I've seen men lose entire herds of cattle to rustlers, leaving them penniless. I've seen carriages filled with women and children that have been assaulted by outlaws, and I've seen the man I've admired the most stuck six feet under before his time, all done secretly in the name of Tobias Coover and Payton Dawson. Yes, Sheriff Towers may have seen more than me but I've seen enough to do what I think is right."

She replied only with silence.

"Besides," he said as they came up to the entrance of the boardinghouse, "a man's got to back his best judgment and I'm backing mine."

Betty stopped in her tracks and watched as Will walked into the boardinghouse alone. She stood frozen on the boardwalk for a moment and then eventually wiped away the tear that had slowly cascaded down her right cheek. Smiling brightly, she in turn entered the boarding house.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

"It's getting late"

Anne stepped from the doorway of her home and onto the porch where her daughter sat alone.

"I know" Kim shivered just a bit. It was an unusually chilly night for this time of year. "I will be up a little longer."

Anne took a seat next to Kim "you know I half expected you to jump on the nearest horse and ride after them when I told you the news."

Kim continued to stare at the large oak tree she and Ron had sat under a few days earlier. "I will not deny that I thought about."

She had thought about if for a long time. But she couldn't leave; Middlewood was a powder keg set to explode. Every citizen could feel the tension in the air, and she knew that it was a matter of time before all hell broke loose.

Ron and her father were in danger, but they had the Circle C and Bar B hands with them. Beside the sheriff Middlewood was practically defenseless.

She despised the fact that she could not be two places at once.

"I can see that you are really worried."

Kim nodded "Especially about Ron, father is one of the smartest men around. But Ron doesn't seem like the type who can survive on his own."

"Oh?"

She chuckled "He threatened to leave town once. I told him that if he stayed close to me, that I would protect him."

"He decided to stay then?"

"Yes…….Sometimes when I am around him I sense that he needs help…….my help…. I want to help but I don't know what to do or how."

"You too have grown close haven't you?"

_As close as people with secrets can get_ Kim thought

"You could say that.'

"I think its sweet."

"Mother do not get any ideas, it is not like that! We are friends and nothing more …….besides I've been seeing Josh…..as you know."

"You sounded more enthusiastic about that a few months ago." Anne said with a smirk "Ah spring fever... You don't quite know what it is you DO want, but it just fairly makes your heart ache, you want it so!"

"Mother!"

Anne continued to tease her daughter until silence eventually crept its way between them.

"They'll be fine right?" Kim asked breaking the pause.

Anne embraced Kim "Yes they will, I know they will" _"I was promised that they would both be safe and sound." _Was what she wanted to tell her daughter but she kept it to her self.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

Louis Wilson sat up with a start. For a few seconds, he didn't know where he was or how he got there. The tiny moan from his sleeping bed partner, a dove from the Sunset Saloon, reminded him of his drunken rabble rousing of the night before. He groped for his colt and found it under his pillow.

That was when he realized there was another person in the room.

"What the hell?"

"Howdy bro," Dub smiled as he leaned back on a chair adjacent to the bed while he chomped on one of his brother's cigar. "I thought I'd drop by, have a smoke and deliver some bad news." He went on to describe the vicious battle between the outlaws and the hands of the Circle C and Bar B that had occurred the night before.

When Dub finished, Louis let out a deep sigh. "And you thought it was fitting for me to sleep in, while a pack of wolves are breathing down our necks."

"I figure we have ample time. If they are descent Christian folk, they will see to it that our pards get a proper burial. That should take most of the night, and then they'll have to rest up as well before they even think about coming to town. They won't be here until tomorrow morning, late tonight at the earliest."

Louis sneered. "And what if they just don't happen to be good decent Christian folk?"

Dub shrugged as he took another puff. "I still don't figure Chick Moore and James Possible to be bringing hellfire and brimstone down on us anytime soon. However, I have to tell you that our good friend the Scarecrow is a likely to be on my trail."

Louis jumped out of bed and quickly dressed. "Damnation," he muttered under his breath.

"No worries, I've already sent word for all the boys in town to meet in this building, on this floor, in the next room if I remember correctly. And they're itching for some action."

Louis stopped as he was buckling his pants. "Laws Dub, Pa always said you was as crazy as a road lizard chewing on loco weed. You had me worried for a minute! What time is it?"

"Oh, about an hour from dawn."

"Good, that'll give us time to figure some things out. Let's go."

Dub pointed the cigar at the sleeping figure on the bed. "Ah, what about the gal there. Was it alright to talk around her?"

Louis glanced at the bed. "Don't worry about her, she's plumb tuckered out. Won't wake up for a few days," he hitched up his pants with a smile. "I made sure of that."

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

They were all there, the ones with established names. Louis and Dub Wilson, Jack Conner, Lin Norris, and the man simply named Sam; and the rest who were currently no names, Zecks Craven, Ralph Big OX Malone, Chester Stallman, Sean West, Frank Stucker, Curly Thomas, Cray Shaw and Tom Braden."

Louis started right in. "Well you've all heard the news. The Bar B and the Circle C have found our rustled herd. Mostly likely the rest of our gang has been shot or hung." He let the announcement sink in. "Now we have to decide what to do."

"What are the chances that the two spreads form a posse and chase after us?" Lin asked

"Highly likely, they'll probably chase us all the way to China for what we've done."

"Then there's only one thing to do then! We kill every last one of them sons of bitches."

"I've thought about that. Problem there is we're powerfully out gunned."

"I've never been partial to turning tail, not at all," Jack Conner declared. "Folks will hear of it and think we are yeller. Every cowpoke from here to Mexico will reckon they can run us off. We'll never be able to show our faces to Lily the Devil again!"

Lin Norris stepped forward. "We can ambush em! We rob and tree the town, lay low, and when they all ride into town we blow them to hell and back."

"Now there's a thinking man," Sam laughed.

"Problem is gents," Dub interrupted, "I'm the only gunman here. Now if you were all shootists of my caliber, it wouldn't be easy but we'd be able to take the town. But as we are now, hell, I might as well say it, no town in the west has ever been treed by twelve back shooting outlaws and one, only one, true gunman."

A quiet murmur went through the gang. Many of them didn't appreciate being called back shooters, but none of them had the gall to tell Dub so to his face.

"My brother's right, the town's folk will fight back, and we can't really afford to lose anymore men. We need all the firepower we can for the ambush."

"So how are we going to keep them from fighting back and keep them quiet for the ambush at the same time!"

"Everybody hobble your damn lips!" Louis shouted. "I've got me an idea."

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

Later that morning

Barkin sat behind his desk, with his scattergun lying against the wall behind him. He was reflecting on the town's current situation, when his train of thoughts was derailed by the sudden opening of his door without anything close to a knock. He grabbed the shotgun and stood up.

Louis Wilson, his brother Sam, and Lin Norris filed into the room. Dub sat on the desk and smiled.

"Alright peggy, you've had Virgil long enough, we've come to let him out.'

Barkin thumbed back both hammers and pointed it at the rustlers. "Is that right? I must tell you, I don't take kindly to be insulted like this."

"That's too bad, but I'm making the medicine now and you're taking it." Louis held up his hand and brought Barkin's attention to the cowbell he was currently holding. "Now sheriff, you might be wondering why I've got this bell. Well, my man Tom Braden is at this moment taking in lessons at the school house."

"The school house? Damn you, if you've done anything to the children….."

Louis put out his hand to cut Barkin off. "Now hold on, the young-ins is safe. They're tied up nice and cozy like. But I don't know how long that'll last. Seeing how if Tom doesn't hear this bell ringing in the next forty seconds, he's going to set the place on fire."

"You monsters!"

"Thirty seconds sheriff, you best to use your time wisely and let Virgil out."

Barkin begrudgingly put down his weapon, took the jail key off its hook, opened the cell and stepped back only to have a revolver jammed into his spine "Virgil comes out, you go in." Lin Norris laughed. "So make yourself comfy."

Virgil Duval laughed out loud as he and Barkin passed each other heading to opposite sides of the bars.

"You're going to sit here and listen as your town goes to hell. When it's all said in done, we'll take care of you last." Louis told Barkin. "Now we're going to have ourselves a bit of fun."

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

.Louis stepped into the middle of the street. "All right, file out here all you cow loving peckerwoods. Everybody who don't want them children to die, raise your hands!" He laughed, the rest of the gang doing the same.

Word about the child hostages had spread quickly through the town. With the sheriff in jail, the citizens of Middlewood didn't bother drawing any weapons they may have owned, and so the town had been conquered without a single shot fired.

"Get on with it Louis, we ain't got all the time in the world you know," Dub exclaimed as he suddenly separated from the group.

"All right folks, everyone hurry on out here and make a line. Your piss poor excuse for a bank ain't enough to satisfy our hunger, so we're here for any money or supplies you may have on hand. Gather it all up, hand it over and lock yourselves in your homes. If anyone steps outside, he or she will be kilt and a child will be kilt. Don't be shy folks; we all know God loves a giver." His eyes swept over the towns people, who were forming an uneven line along the street to dump their valuables into the large sacks of the awaiting rustlers.

"Jack, you and Zecks get a wagon and clean out the stores. Once these shave tails are inside we'll take a run at the bank."

As Louis continued to issue orders, Dub dragged Anne Possible out of the Doctor White's office by the arm.

"Whoowie, now that's what I'm talking," Sam shouted. "Let me at some of them wimmin!"

Louis spit a stream of tobacco juice and stared at his brother in disgust. "That's a grand idea; do a little buckboard bouncing as the Scarecrow or the Stranger sneaks in and guns you in the back. No poking or getting dunk till the job's done!"

"What, you can't be serious!" a rustler shouted. The others shouted in agreement.

Louis fired into the air. "I'm the big bug here and what I says goes. We need to stay alert dammit!" He glanced at his brother. "Dub, where the hell are you going?"

"Don't pay me no never mind brother, this ain't for pleasure, this for my own personal business between me and the Scarecrow."

"Let me go!" Anne struggled as Dub continued to drag her away.

He smiled. "Don't worry ma'am, I ain't at all a savage like the rest of them. I prefer my women willing besides I've got more important plans for you. First of all do you happen to know if your daughter is in town?"

"Stay away from my daughter!" Anne shouted defiantly.

"Hmmm, well don't worry if she is. We'll find he….."

He was interrupted when Anne managed to pull away and give him a vicious slap across the face.

"Damn," Dub smiled holding his stinging cheek, "the whole family is full of piss and vinegar ain't it?" He grabbed Anne by the waist and thrust his fist into her midsection. The blow knocked the wind out of Anne's body and she fell limp into his arms, Dub threw her over his shoulder before carrying her away.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

"Monique, I have to thank you for allowing the Young Women's League to use you saloon for our meeting.

The seven other girls in the group nodded in agreement.

"No problem hon," Monique replied as she placed a pot of coffee on the counter. "I don't like opening up this early in the morning anyway. Give the girls a chance to rest. So what do you have in the saddle bag?"

"Well this….." Kim paused when she heard someone shouting outside, she shrugged it off and reached into the bag, "what I have here are copies of Elizabeth Cady Stanton's Seneca Falls Declaration of Sentiments and Resolutions."

Bonnie groaned.

Tara looked from Bonnie than to Kim. "Elizabeth Stanton, who's she?" she asked curiously.

"Who is she?" Kim repeated. "Why, she's a social activist, the leading figure of the women's rights movement back east. Her Declaration of Sentiments at Seneca Falls basically started women's suffrage in this country."

Monique placed her hands under her chin and smiled. "Being from the Old states, I couldn't help but hear all about Miss Stanton, and from what I've heard, she doesn't take to advocating the rights for _all_ types of women."

"Well," Kim cleared her throat as her gaze fell to the floor. Her voice wavering she continued, "There is still some unpleasantness within the movement, however getting the right to vote is still a step in the right direction for all woman."

"I couldn't agree more. Baby steps as they say," Monique replied, keeping her sunny and cheerful tone.

"Okay," Kim said, her fire being reignited, "who wants a copy?"

Bonnie frowned. "Ugh, this Declaration, it was written when, fifty years ago?"

'Twenty one years ago," Kim corrected.

"And has anything changed?" Bonnie commented. "No, it was probably written by a bunch of old maids who can't find a decent husband." She looked at the other girls. "Don't we have more important things to be talking about, like the Box Social this Sunday? I for one am in no mood to hear another one of Kim's long winded lectures. Why is she even the leader of our group again?"

"Pardon?"

"I mean, this is a Ladies group right? Kim rides a horse astride for God's sake!"

"What does that have to with anything?"

"It's unladylike, that's what it is. I daresay it's quite vulgar as well."

A low growl escaped Kim's lips. As she was set to respond, Jessica, who had been glancing out the window, announced that there was some big commotion going on in town.

Kim's head snapped towards the window "what's happening?" Before she could get answer, the door to the saloon flew open

Sam ran his fingers across his pencil thin mustache. "Hate to bust up this hen party ladies but this town's under new management! Y'all should run on home and bring out your valuables cuz we're taking up a collection."

He grinned, as the startled girls regained their composures. They attempted to run past the outlaw, but he put out his arm and caught Tara by the waist as she tried to brush past him. He pulled her close "hold on now darling, you are a pretty one, it would be quite a shame if we parted without at least one ki---- urk."

Tara opened her eyes to see Sam collapse in front of her feet like a sack of potatoes. Kim stood over him with a now dented coffee pot in her hand.

She smiled brightly at Tara. "I didn't think you wanted that to be your first real kiss."

Jessica gasped. "My goodness, you knocked him out. He'll be mighty angry when he wakes up."

"I won't be here when he does." Kim turned to Monique. "Is there a back door here?"

"For sure, but what are you going to do?"

Everyone in the room saw the glimmer of excitement in Kim's eyes. "I'm going to try to sneak out of town, and find some _help._"

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

**Ron rode the main trail around Murdoch's home from dawn to about mid morning. He then turned onto a weed grown path and followed it until a large house came to view. As he neared the only home he knew, the home he would soon leave, he spotted an old friend drawing water from the nearby well.**

"**Aquene," he said with glee, "what brings you here!" **

**Aquene looked up from the well and smiled. "Ronald, Murdoch told me you were gone. I thought I had missed you!"**

"**Nah, I was just taking a last look around you know. Before I go off…on my journey."**

**Aquene nodded understanding "I came to impart onto you some wisdom to take on your journey."**

**Ron smiled. Aquene was only half Cherokee but he had a large amount of pride in his heritage. He took every opportunity he could to quote an Indian proverb, it didn't even bother him if the quote was Cherokee or not. One couldn't talk to Aquene for more than five minutes without him sharing the wisdom of the ancients.**

"**Shoot," Ron told him.**

**Aquene cleared his throat. "What is life? It is the flash of a firefly in the night. It is the breath of a buffalo in the wintertime. It is the little shadow which runs across the grass and loses itself in the sunset..."**

**Ten minutes later Aquene finally began to wind down. "When you were born, you cried and the world rejoiced. Live your life so that when you die, the world cries and you rejoice."**

**Ron sighed. "Aq, you're always sharing with me the wisdom of the ancients or the forefathers. Now I've no problem with that at all, but sometimes I am willing to listen to some of your wisdom."**

**Aquene eyes widened with surprise, and then he ran his hands under his chin reflectively. "Yes, let me see….do not pass on the opportunity to soar high above the clouds, never be afraid to fly."**

"**Now that sure sounds wise to me, what does it mean?"**

**Aquene gazed down at the ground. "I do not know, I am not as wise as the ancients."**

**Ron paused before throwing his head back with laughter. Aquene soon followed suit, the two laughed until they were out of breath.**

**Together, the two companions were seconds away from the front porch of the house when the old gunman stepped out, a good sized glass of whiskey in his hand.**

"**I thought you had left," he told Ron.**

"**Naw, just taking a last look around. Had ole Aquene here giving me some last bits of wisdom."**

**Murdoch shook his head. "Lords, you damn half breed, I've been telling you for years to stop spouting that bunk around my house. I have it in mind to whoop ya for it once and for all."**

**Aquene rolled his eyes. "The moon is not shamed by the barking of dogs," he said to no one in particular.**

**Murdoch threw his hand out dramatically. "BAH!"**

**Aquene turned to Ron. "This is where we must part my good friend. May we meet again in better health."**

**Ron tipped his hat to his friend, and the Indian gave Murdoch an indignant look before walking off.**

"**Always a bunch of jibber jabber with that one," Murdoch said before taking another sip from his glass.**

**Ron stared at his mentor in the ways of the gun. The man who had taken him in over the last few years, the man who had taught him everything he needed to know to survive out there in the badlands.**

"**Well I'm leaving," Ron said.**

"**I can see that," Murdoch replied.**

"**I want to thank you."**

"**For what?"**

**For the second time this morning, Ron sighed. "Thanks anyway." He started to slowly trot past the house.**

"**Every time you pull the trigger, it feels like part of your soul is leaving with the bullet." Murdoch said suddenly when Ron had reached the edge of the porch.**

**Ron stopped his horse. "Is that a fact?" he said without turning around.**

"**Actually, I'm lying, it only feels that way in the beginning. After the fourth or fifth man, you don't feel nothing at all." The gunman laughed.**

**Ron remained silent.**

"**Now you tell me, which is worse son?" **

"**I'm sensing you don't want me to do this. Are you trying to get me to stay Murdoch?"**

"**Me? I don't give a damn what you do boy. I'd be happy to have my house to myself again. I just don't want that damn half breed prancing about saying I didn't give you fair warning about what's out there. Only god and common sense will keep you safe you out there my boy, and I don't think you've got neither on your side."**

**Ron turned his horse around to face Murdoch. "I will be back."**

**The old shooter shook his head. "No, you won't. Even if you survive, you won't come back the same man." He pointed to the road Ron was to take. "You go up that road, and you are coming back down it someone else."**

**Ron thought about this for a moment. "I studied on that, and I reckon that some would say the man I should have become died with my family…" He locked eyes with his reluctant teacher. "These are things I just have to do. I promised to holy hell that what happened wouldn't stand."**

"**This may be more hypocrisy than I can swallow. But I figure I should ask again, is that what your family would want? Is that what the dead citizens of Beavers Pass want?"**

**Ron pondered on his statement. "I'm not sure." He turned his horse away from Murdoch's home. "I may never be sure….can't be sure ….but it's what I want I reckon…it's the right thing to do, I can feel that in my soul above all else…...So long Murdoch." Ron restarted his slow trot away from the closest thing he left to a family.**

"**Hold on boy!" Murdoch called out when Ron was just about out of ear shot. "You're a legend in the making son…….always keep your guard up." He raised his glass in the air in salute.**

**Ron stared at the scene in amazement before eventually turning away. A moment later, he picked his hat off his head and waved it in the air without turning.**

"**You better not be crying boy!" Murdoch shouted after him. **

**Ron swiped at his eyes with his sleeve. "I'm not crying!" he shouted before placing his hat back in place. "I just got something in my eye is all," he muttered under his breath.**

**A half an hour later, he was on the trail. He didn't know where the original members of the Rooster Coover gang had gone; he'd more than likely find some information on the hoot and trail frequently used by outlaws. Somehow he would find them….all of them….even if it was one at a time if it came to it. **

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

On a hilltop about a few minutes away from Middlewood, Scarecrow stood quietly against a tree, a pair of field binoculars in his hand. From what he had seen through them, Louis Wilson somehow had the town under his thumb.

He had to assume that the sheriff had been killed, injured, or if he was lucky, taken hostage.

He ran his hand across the back of his head. Riding in there in broad day light was paramount to suicide. It wouldn't pay for any sane person to buck those odds unless he absolutely, positively had too. Things would definitely be much easier in the dark.

He closed his eyes and leaned against the tree. The familiar clink of ice on glass interrupted the steady silence of nature.

"You ain't looking too happy there Scarecrow." The voice stretched out his alias.

"More gun trouble. Something I came here to get away from."

"It doesn't get any easier, does it?"

"I guess not," Scarecrow replied.

"I would have bet money you would have run in there guns a blazing. I reckon you were listening to me after all."

'I'm not ready to die Murdoch, not yet anyway. And if I remember correctly, you've gone in guns a blazing quite a few times yourself."

"Can't deny that one...a lot of things can happen in town between now and twilight. I wouldn't put it past those hard cases down there to do many, many bad things while you're waiting.

"You are taking the long way around the barn Murdoch."

"What will you do if…"

"If it comes to that, I'll deal with it when the time comes."

Murdoch took a long loud slurp from his glass before chuckling softly. "You already knew the answer before it was asked. It comes easy now, doesn't it? The answer comes so easy and quick that it disgusts you."

Ron's eyes popped open. Overhead, a prairie falcon soared in the cloudless azure sky. He inhaled and exhaled. "Man, it's getting harder and harder to fly."

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

Sheriff Towers two deputies flashed a look at each other for several seconds before turning to the young woman in the doorway. Hats in hand, they gazed down at the ground. "Ma'am, I'm sorry, but no one is allowed to see the prisoner."

Jenkins, who was standing behind Veronica, became furious. "Balderdash and poppycock! Do you know who this young lady is? THE Veronica Walton! She deserves to be treated with only the most utmost respect."

"Jenkins please," Veronica scolded her butler, "we mustn't be rude, we are guests in this town and we shall act as so."

"Miss Walton, I must say your class is unfortunately lost on these scalawags."

"Now hold on," one of the deputies said angrily, "I don't take to being called a scalawag."

"Dingus, Festus, what's going on here?"

The two deputies turned on their heels towards Towers. "This here little lady wants to speak to the prisoner."

Veronica stepped further into the Sheriff's office and bowed slightly. "Sir, I know your relationship with my travel companion, Marshal Du, is a complicated one but the prisoner…..Seth Beechum, I'm embarrassed to say, he and I have a few matters of the heart to discuss before he is sent away."

A knowing look was exchanged between Towers and his deputies. "Matters of the heart you say?"

"Yes sir, things of a highly personal nature….." she purposefully let her words trail off.

Towers sighed. "This is a might unusual, but I was never one to deny a young woman. But I must say ma'am, a lady of your caliber can do much, much better than slime like Seth Beechum."

Veronica brought her hands together. "Oh thank you sir, I….my family and I will never forget your generosity…...but for now allow me to express my gratitude by sharing with you some of the fine cakes and tea I have in my personal collection. Jenkins, if you please."

Jenkins pushed into the room carrying a picnic basket of sorts. "Gentleman, this afternoon you shall partake in a fascinating experience of a life time. Miss Walton has been gracious enough to share some of her finest Earl Grey Tea and desserts."

As Sheriff Towers led Veronica towards the cells in the back, Jenkins placed the picnic basket on the sheriff's desk and began setting down tea cups and silverware.

Seth sat up on the cot he was laying on when he saw Veronica approach. "I'm giving you two a few minutes. Don't try anything funny Beechum, I'm not one to balk from putting a bullet in a man."

Seth smiled grimly at the sheriff. "I hear you boss," he replied sarcastically.

When Towers was out of earshot, Veronica pressed herself against the bar of the cell. "My it's cramped in there."

He shrugged. "Room enough to swing a cat. Besides it is a jail cell."

She lowered her voice. "Don't worry; the marshal has a plan to get you out."

"He does?"

"Yes, it'll happen tonight." She looked over her shoulder. "But in the meantime, tell me about my br….about the outlaw Scarecrow."

"Curious one ain't ya, did you two happen two cross paths before?"

"You can say that... Now please tell me everything you know about him."

Seth tilted his head back as if he was once again looking fondly into the past. "One of the fastest men I ever seen with a revolver, I swear he could walk into any saloon in the west, give a warning, and eight times out of ten I reckon he would fan everyone in the room with his right and his left hand."

Veronica paled. "So he was a cold blooded assassin?"

"Nah, nah, they's some fellas out there who just plumb like killing, you can see it in their eyes, they twinkle when there is killing to be done. But Scarecrow wasn't like that, he was different you might say, most of the people he killed deserved it one way or another. Great man to have around whenever you walked into a hostile town……..I reckon most of the killing he did was on account of his family, cept of course for some like of Shad Wilkins and his cousins, mean evil men, had the misfortune of bracing us while Scarecrow was on the peck, shot them down in less time then it just took me to tell you about it."

"You said he did these things on account of his family? Can you tell me more about that?"

Meanwhile back in the office. The sheriff and the deputies attempted their best to get a handle on the dainty tea cups.

"This tea is some powerfully weak stuff. It don't taste like nothing at all" Festus said as he took sip.

Towers nodded. "Give me a good hard strong cup of coffee any day."

"I assure you gentleman, the only way you can fully appreciate the potent flavor of Earl of Grey is to drink heartily." Jenkins announced as he continued to pour more tea into the lawmen's cups.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

"Supper time" Jack Conner gleefully carried a plate of biscuits, bacon and taters towards the cell that held Middlewood's one and only lawman. "Hope you are hungry, this one's fresh off the stove." The rustler tilted the plate and let the food fall to the floor an arms length away from the door of the cell. "Darn my clumsiness" Jack grinned.

Barkin looked at the food then the rustler "Shame that the west is full of scum like you. Fools that think they are ten feet tall and immune to bullets."

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"It means for your sake you better hope I don't get out of here and get my hands on my greener."

Jack laughed. "Oh boy, you've shore got me shaking in my boots peggy." He turned away from the cell, returning to the front where two other rustlers were currently playing poker on the sheriff's desk.

"I don't know why we've got to guard that peg–legged son of bitch," Frank Stucker lips curled back into a snarl. "I'll bet my horse the Louis and the others are out there with the women getting liquored up."

"Oh, I guess you'd rather be on patrol, with the Scarecrow out there?"

Chester Stallman nodded in agreement as he dealt Frank a new hand of cards. "I'd rather be in here. Being on patrol is a good way of coming down with lead poisoning."

"Scarecrow, bah! That bastard don't impress me none. I bet he's on his way to China right now."

"Now that's just pure foolishness Frank. He wouldn't be on his way to China unless he can speak Chinamen."

" Chester, how the hell do you know he can't speak Chinamen?"

Jack rolled his eyes before announcing his dire need for the outhouse. He left while, Frank and Chester continued to bicker and play. They lost and won with equal aplomb, neither one taking the game too seriously as was often the case with low stake games. It was about fifteen minutes later when Frank looked up from his cards.

"Lord. I could sure use a drink, I'm as dry as jerky."

"You know, I recollect Jack always carrying around a flask…." Chester paused. "Hold on now, where is old Jack, he's been gone for awhile."

"Maybe he came down with a case of the Tennessee squirts?"

"Maybe," Chester drew his gun, "or maybe not. Let's go check it out anyhow." The two men got up from the table and cautiously stepped out of the Sheriff's office.

A few gas lamps did their best to illuminate the town streets at night but there were more than plenty of shadows and alleys for one to hide in. Shoulder to shoulder Frank and Chester marched in the direction of the outhouse. As they neared the privy they could hear someone banging away on the inside.

"Jack is that you?" Frank called out

"Yes it's me," Jack cried from the inside, "I'm stuck in here dammit, come and let me out!"

Frank and Chester chuckled to themselves. "Well keep pants on, we're a coming!" Frank continued to snicker. When he reached for the handle of the outhouse he discovered the cause of all the commotion.

"Here's the problem, someone lodged a plank in the door….." Both men looked down as thin firecracker rolled towards Chester's feet.

"What in hell…." Before Chester could finish the firecracker exploded with a soft crack. It generated a thick cloud of irritant smoke that blinded the two rustlers.

From the outhouse Jack Conner heard the crack of the firecracker and the immediate bouts of hacking coughs that followed. "What is going on out there?" he exclaimed.

When the coughing abruptly stopped, Jack placed his ears against the door. He could swear he had heard two muffled thumps but now there was nothing but an eerie silence.

"Hello out there?"

Jack practically jumped out of his boots when the door flew open. "You!" he squeaked, as he came face to face with the Stranger. Before he could further react, the masked vigilante threw a punch. Fist made contact with jaw, and Jack Conner slumped motionless against the walls of the outhouse.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

Barkin scratched his chest, his fingers exploring beneath his shirt when...

"Sheriff!" The Stranger coughed. "I mean Sheriff," the Stranger repeated with a noticeably deeper voice. "Are you alright?"

Barkin inclined his head toward the voice. "More than alright now that you're here. Let me out quick!"

The Stranger advanced towards the cell. "I've got bad news."

"Spill it."

"I'll give it to you straight, I can't find the cell key. I've searched your guards and your desk but it's no where to be found."

Barkin stood up. "Damn, that blasted Louis Wilson must have taken the key with him."

"Don't worry sheriff, I'll get the key, and I'll save the town and the children."

"Now hold on, you've done good in this town for a fact, but don't go thinking you can tackle this mess alone. It's plumb impossible!"

The Stranger grinned. "well Sheriff, I guess you haven't heard anything is possible for a….." The masked hero stopped mid-sentence, "I mean, I'll save this town by hook or crook, you'll see. By now, Louis has certainly gotten my message."

"Message?"

Without another word but only the slight tip of the hat, the Stranger rushed towards the exit.

"No you fool!" Barkin shouted to no avail. He shook his head. "Young people these days."

"And I thought I was an odd bug in town, that Stranger takes the cake in being the mysterious type!" Came a familiar voice from the office.

Barkin leaned against the bars. "Who's there?"

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

"I tell you, that was gunfire!"

"Shut the hell up Ralph, we all know what gunfire sounds like and that sure as hell was not gunfire." Inside the town bank, Louis Wilson poured himself a glass of Brandy Sour.

"I thought you said we couldn't drink?" Lin Norris inquired as he counted a stack of bills

Louis offered him a cold, hard glance that forced Lin to look away. "What are y'all worried about? Zeck, Willie, Sam, Cray, Curly, and Sean are out there, and if anything, Dub is sure to handle the Scarecrow."

"Louis, you better come see this!" Louis, Ralph Lin, and Virgil Duval quickly stepped outside.

"Lookie here," Sean West pointed to three lone horses that were trotting towards the saloon.

"Those horses belong to Jack, Frank, and Chester!" Ralph stated.

"And look who's tied face down to the saddle," Virgil remarked.

Louis squinted and soon enough he could make out a body laying face down on one of the horses, his pants down around his ankles. "Is he shot?"

Sean inspected the body. "Nah, but Jack's jaw is broke. Look like this is some kind of warning."

"Scarecrow wouldn't high hat us like this. Jack would've been shot if it was him, right?" Lin Norris asked.

"Leave that fool alone, he deserves to be humiliating like that!" Louis growled at Sean before downing his glass of brandy. "Looks like the Stranger is making his play."

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

Dub admired the tiny blackboard he had stolen from the Cafe. What had once been a sign announcing the daily special was now a makeshift scoreboard with a column under his name and a column under Scarecrow.

He put the board on the ground when the muffled groans of Anne Possible echoed off the walls of the empty dance hall. She lay against the wall on the other side of the room, a handkerchief stuffed in her mouth, her hands tied behind her back. Dub casually sauntered towards her. He reached for her and she recoiled in horror. He smiled, and kneeling over, he delicately pulled the handkerchief from her mouth.

"I apologize for knocking you out ma'am but you were putting up quite a fuss. I had to have a little quiet time to myself if you understand."

"What do you want with me?"

"Actually, I didn't want nothing to do with you. It's your daughter I wanted but she's gone and skedaddled out of town. Gal's harder than a wildcat to hold onto."

"Why did you want my daughter?"

"Simple answer is I wanted her to be the official witness to me and the Scarecrow's showdown."

Dub snickered at her blanched face. "So you wanted to kill him in front of her?" she accused.

"That's about right I reckon. It would have been better with her but you'll do. The good news is you'll find yourself alive after all this." He grabbed her chin and inspected her face carefully. "And maybe if you behave, I can keep those mangy coyotes away from this one particular piece of fresh meat." Having said his piece, he let go off her face, turned his back to her and started away.

"And why would you do that?"

He stopped. "Now that's a good question. It's got me treed," he hooted, "maybe it's that motherly air about you." He walked to the old piano in the dance hall

"How about a song to pass the time?"

"You can play the piano?"

"Sure, killing aint' the only thing I'm good at," he snorted. "I figure you to be a good Christian woman. Do you have a hymn of choice?"

Anne shook her head.

"Fair enough, here's something I heard a few times back East, bout three years ago." Dub cracked his knuckles before playing the opening piece of Onward Christian Soldier.

"You learned the song just by listening to it?"

"Yes ma'am, I had an ear for that sort of thing, and as a young buck I always admired a fine piano. Thought about becoming a musician too. Then, when I was twelve I saw Kid Mallory and Jerry Jenson hook and draw in the middle of the street right before my very eyes, changed the way I thought about things."

Dub's fingers danced across the keys while Anne struggled to her feet. "Don't try anything foolish. I can hit you from here," he said without taking his eyes of the piano keys.

"You've got any kin Dub? A mother and father?"

He responded with a chuckle. "Not any that give a damn, besides my brother of course. Hell, if they're alive wherever they are, they can both go to hell."

Anne stood for a moment motionless besides the beating of her heart. She then stared making her way towards the piano.

"Watch yourself," he said softly, "I don't want to have to kill you."

"Why are you doing this, what has Ron ever done to you?"

Dub continued to concentrate on the music. "He didn't have to do nothing, he is who he is, I am who I am, that's all there is too it."

"And what are you?" she said moving closer.

He didn't answer right away "Have you ever come close to having your candle snuffed ma'am?"

"I'd say today's adventure has been the closest I've been to my own death. But as a nurse, I've seen my share."

"Things taste differently when you've survived a bout of gun slinging. Food tastes better, woman feel softer, the sun shines brighter."

"You're a thrill seeker then."

"That's part of it," he continued, "but there's more to it than that. Back in the old days, beyond even the Roman days, warriors fought for respect, honor, and power. They put their lives on the line, and hired out their blades as mercenaries……have you ever been back East ma'am?" he asked suddenly.

"Yes."

"More laws there than there is sand on the beach. Slowly but surely the west will be the same."

Anne stared at the man with a questioning look. "So gunmen are the last breed of warriors to you?"

"A dying breed," he laughed. "I plan to make my mark as the best of them all before time runs out...It's funny, when I first heard about the Scarecrow's feats, I thought to myself is this man trying to outdo me? Vain yes, but it comes with the lifestyle. I presume we all share that connection, you start to believe that any news involving guns and gunslingers somehow relates to you. A rare but dying breed, we are definitely."

"I think you are wrong," she said now standing besides the piano. "I don't believe Ronald is anything like you."

"Is that so?" He said with a faint smile, he abruptly stopped playing. "Tell me ma'am, do you believe that we….. I'm an evil man?"

"I believe that is an answer one must discover for himself."

He grinned. "I feel that way as well, most of the time anyhow." He then turned back to the piano.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

"Cooley!"

"Just saw the Stranger run out of this office is some kind of hurry…...sheriff, they locked you in your cell!"

"Yes, I am well aware of that! The irony of it does not escape me!"

Ron scratched the base of his forehead. "Ir-on-ny…..man it's hell to be ignorant. Anyway sheriff, I'm here to help."

"We need all the help we can get, that hothead gir…..Stranger just ran off like a fool! He'll get shot to pieces for sure! "

"I wouldn't be too sure about that. It's been a long time since I seen a fella that clever. A real he-man if you ask me," Ron told Barkin. "Saved me a heap of trouble. I haven't had to make any noise…..yet," he added softly.

Barkin eyed Ron suspiciously. "You snuck into town without being noticed?"

"Wasn't really that hard, apparently the Stranger did the same thing too."

"Let me ask you something, are those guns around you waist for use or for show?"

Ron didn't answer.

"Louis Wilson is holding the school children hostage. The citizens of this town won't make a move with the children in danger. The fool Stranger is the only one fighting back but there's no way he can butt heads with that gang alone. There is plenty at stake here boy, so are you or are you not good with those guns."

Ron's eyes narrowed. "I'm more than passing fare with a revolver."

"Then will you help the town?"

"I'm not too fond of having a treed town on my conscience."

"Good, go find the Stranger and be careful. Don't forget those children are in danger!"

Ron smiled. "Sheriff, you should have saved the lecture. I was going to help anyway."

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

"Shut your damn trap!" Sam struck Mr. Rockwaller across the face as his wife whimpered in a corner. He continued to strike the man until he dropped onto the floor motionless.

The Rockwaller family had decided to wait the town's darkest day in the secluded area on the second Floor of the Rockwaller's Dress Shopee along with their long time good friends, the Monroe family. Unfortunately both families had not counted on Sam's powerful "urgings".

Tara screamed when Curly Thomas hurled her father towards to the wall, knocking him out cold. "Sam, aren't we supposed to be on patrol? And I could have sworn that Dub said no wimmin."

"I don't give a damn what Dub said, it's a full moon tonight, and I got an itch." His eyes fell onto Tara, who was crouching over her father along with her weeping mother.

Bonnie followed Sam's eyes. " Tara run," she exclaimed. Tara looked up to see in the glow of a lamp, Sam's lust filled pupils boring holes into her. "Run honey, please," her mother pleaded.

Tara hesitated at first but then she jumped to her feet, sprinted out the door, down the stairs, and into the street.

"I shore do love it when they run, makes the whole thing sporting." Sam brought his attention to Bonnie and the weeping wives. "If anyone of you make another peep or put up more of a fuss. I'll put a bullet in each of you and in one of the snot nosed brats at the school." He then licked his lips and followed after Tara.

Curly shrugged. "Since I'm here I reckon I'll take the brunette." He reached for Bonnie's arm.

His touch sent a fury through her, she struck at his hand her nails scratching him deeply. "What's the damned matter with you?" he demanded angrily as he clenched his bleeding hand.

"Honey, don't rile him up!"

"Mother, this good for nothing nobody mudsill has no right to touch me. I'd rather drink lye than be in the same room as him."

"Oh I see how it is," Curly sneered. "I'll show you who's boss." He grabbed her again. "It don't matter to me if you come unwillingly. I'll break you down like you was a horse."

He threw the struggling brunette over his right shoulder. "And it ain't gonna be comfortable neither. We're going to go for a hay ride."

He carried her down the stairs but Bonnie continued to battle against him with ever step. When they reached the first floor, she managed to get a good hard kick at his left shin, forcing him to drop her onto the ground.

"Damn you cussed…" he cried out as Bonnie crawled away from him. "Forget the hay, I was trying to be a gentleman about this. But now it's going to get done on the damned floor."

"Excuse me sir, is the store closed?" said a voice from behind him.

"Who?" Unfortunately for Curly, he turned his head right into a left hook. The stunned rustler stumbled backwards into a box of bonnets

"The Stranger!" Bonnie shouted out with glee.

Bonnie's savior greeted her with a touch of the tip of the hat. "Ma'am."

The outlaw yelled, cussed and jumped to his feet. "By God stranger, you sucker punched me. I let you take the first lick but know that you grabbed a hold of a mite more than you can handle."

He took a wild swing at the Stranger, who dodged the blow and struck him the midsection. Curly gasped for air. "Damn you to hell." Another hard punch connected with his jaw.

"That's it then Stranger!" Curly wobbled. "I've had enough…" Twice more he tried to speak but a combination of jabs kept him quiet. An additional straight punch snapped his head backwards as he tried to clear his head.

Mouth busted open, Curly let out a loud growl as he made a mad dash at the Stranger. As he ran, he threw another high arching punch that the Stranger easily ducked under and stuck out a boot. The outlaw's forward momentum could not be stopped and he tripped over the boot, crashing through the thin wooden walls of the store and spilling out into the grimy muck of the alleyway between the store and the next building.

His face covered in filth, he struggled to his feet. "I got you now, you dirty…bastard," he mumbled. The last sight he saw before blacking out was of the Stranger sending a round house kick in the general direction of his chin. The blow spun him around twice and, he hit the ground with a soft thud in the mud but with a loud outburst of air.

It was then that Bonnie peeked through the body sized hole in her father's store and saw the body of Matthew Cage laying face down in the mud. "What happened?"

"He decided it was time for a nap," The Stranger quipped.

Bonnie took the Stranger by the hand. "Oh thank you I am eternally gratefully for your help." She gracefully ran her fingers across the Stranger's hands. "My, your hands are quite dainty for such a heroic man of the west."

"Well…."

"When this is over, if you return to the shop, my father will personally thank you for your assistance." She batted her eyes at the Stranger. "And so shall I."

The masked vigilante was stunned by these apparent turn of events. "Um..."

"Oh my goodness, Tara, we must save her!" Bonnie swiftly pulled back into the store, giving the Stranger a moment to sigh in relief.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

Sam let his gun belt drop to the floor as he stalked Tara down the boardwalk. He undid the top buttons of his shirt, his eyes brimming with anticipation. Tara attempted to cross the street but tripped up in her haste, falling butt over elbows to the floor.

Sam laughed out loud. "Now, now sugar britches, maybe if you play nice. I might consider marrying you."

"Why not" a voice scoffed, "I'm sure the lady would love to sport the same black eye for the rest of her life."

"Who in tarnation has the sand to….?"

"I reckon I have the sand pard," Scarecrow said as he nonchalantly stepped into plain view behind Sam.

"You know who you are talking to? I eat two bit gunslingers like you for supper."

"I figure this supposed gunslinger will give you a bad case of indigestion."

The rustler found his adversaries aloof posture to be damned annoying. "Oh ho, you are a brave man when I'm unarmed. If I had a gun at my hip, you'd be one tight lipped son of a gun I tell you what."

Scarecrow considered the statement. "Okay, I'll loan you a weapon." He took his left colt from the holster flipped it in his hand and tossed it butt first to Sam.

"No!" Tara shouted.

Sam was temporarily stunned when he caught the gun. But as the weapon settled in his hand on the way down he regained his composure, he quickly leveled the weapon. Though before he could pull the trigger, he heard a gun roar and an intense pain shot through his inner thigh. Sam stared in horror at the thinning cloud of smoke coming from Scarecrow's hip.

"Oh my God! He done shot me in the balls!" the rustler cried. Unknowingly to him the bullet had struck him in the inner thigh a short distance away from his privates. Still, both hands went between his bloody legs "Oh Lord, someone get me a doctor…… I'm ruined!" He wailed and moaned as tears streamed down his face.

Scarecrow shuffled over to the howling man, he booted his revolver away from Sam before picking it out of the dirt and putting it back in place "I'll just take this back now," he then made his way to Tara

Ron offered her his hand. "You ok miss?"

She stared at him in amazement. "He….he lost, he had a definite edge and he lost."

"Oh I will admit that was more than bit of showboating. But I figure that a fella like that could stand to be humiliated a little."

Tara placed her hand in his and he helped her to her feet. She glanced back at her assailant. "Did you really hit him in the precious parts?"

"Nah, I couldn't do nothing like that. But it came real close though."

She smiled. "Maybe you should have hit him in the there"

Ron's eyebrows rose high. "Good lord miss, are you made of stone?"

She giggled. "My name is not miss, its Tara."

" Tara, are you ok?" Bonnie sprinted up to her best friend. "Are you alright, did that fiend do anything despicable to you?"

As the two girls comforted each other Ron discovered that the Stranger was staring intently at him.

"That was quite a feat there," The Stranger said after watching him closely. "He had the gun in his hand and you still beat him to the draw."

"Yeah that was pretty impressive but I've seen better feats of shooting." Ron put his hand out. "I'd like to shake your hand Stranger, and tell you that I'm here to back your play no matter what."

The Stranger shook his hand. "That's right friendly of you but I can stomp my own snakes."

"And I'm sure of it. But it couldn't hurt to have a helping hand every now and then would it?"

The Stranger eyed him curiously. "I suppose so…..if you wanted too could you have killed him?"

"Seeing how it's much, much harder to hit a man in the thigh like that, then in the heart or the head, I would have to say yes."

"But you didn't…."

It all happened in a matter of seconds. A hammering of gunfire chucked into the wooden post next to Ron. One bullet blew his hat clear of his head, another whispered past his ear.

Scarecrow willed himself to keep calm, acting quickly he pushed the Stranger and the girls towards a nearby alleyway, before he himself dove to the ground, rolled hard and rocked to his feet already drawn and ready to fire.

He spotted Zecks Craven poking his head from between two buildings. He fired a well placed shot at the side of building that sent dozens of wooden splinters, into Zeck's face forcing him to duck back into the shadows.

Ron swiftly joined the girls in the alley "You gals alright?"

Bonnie and Tara nodded frantically.

"We're fine, can you say the same for yourself?" The Stranger asked.

"Don't worry none, I've seen the elephant quite a few times."

"Is that so?"

Ron ran his hands through his hair. "Dang it I left my hat out there" He made a move to step out into the street when the stranger pulled him back.

"Are you loco, forget the stupid hat!"

"Hey now, someone important gave me that hat as a gift!" Ron replied, surprising not only himself, but for some reason the Stranger as well.

"I mean, it was gift from a friend."

The Stranger shook it off. "Okay, I understand that, but you were lucky enough to survive that last round of fire."

"Trust me on this I can handle.." Ron sniffed the air. "Are you wearing perfume?"

The Stranger blinked in confusion. "What?"

"You smell like somebody I know."

Bonnie took a gander at Tara. "What an odd thing to say" she whispered to her friend.

"I don't think that's so unusual" the blonde replied.

Bullets struck the ground at the entrance of the alley, kicking dirt up into the air. "Now is not the time to discuss perfume," the stranger shouted at Ron.

Ron took fleeting look around the corner of the building. "I can't get a good bead on him. He's got us pinned and we need to get somewhere safer before his friends show up."

"I've got an idea, keep him distracted!"

"Someone help me! I've been shot in the doo-dads!"

"What, distract him?"

"Yes."

The Stranger crawled under the Dress Shopee, which was built about two feet off the ground.The ground underneath the store was and littered with trash. The mysterious hero slithered along the ground until the legs of the Zecks Craven appeared in the distance. Oblivious to the situation the outlaw continued to exchange blind fire with Ron. The Stranger continued to silently inch closer and, when only a few inches away, the enigmatic champion changed positions and lashed out a powerful kick at the rustler's leg.

Zecks went down in an awkward sprawl. The Stranger rolled out from the building and was up on two feet in only a moment.

"My leg's broke," Zecks moaned. "Lord it hurts bad, you …." He reached for his dropped weapon and The Stranger relieved him from his pain by knocking him out with a boot to his face.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

Dub Wilson's head tilted towards the window. "Sounds like gunfire."

"How can you tell?"

"He's here." Dub pushed himself from the piano and got up to his feet.

Anne stepped in his path. "I won't let you do this. It's wrong!"

"That may be so, but in my last few years of life, I've been of the opinion that sometimes the wrong thing just feels right." He grabbed her by the shoulders and shoved her to the side.

"You can't be so sure you can win. Ron may get a lucky shot off. You may both die on the streets tonight."

"All I have to do is get a bullet in him before he puts one in me, it's as simple as that."

"Your arrogance is blinding you. They say pride is the sign of a foolish man."

"_They_ say a lot of things ma'am. _They_ also say things such as might makes right, and only the strong survive."

"There is no need for this, Ronald isn't who you think. He doesn't share this ridiculous gunfighter mentality."

Dub spun towards her. Through the corner of her eyes, she saw the blur of his right hand and suddenly she found the cold hard metal of a gun pressed against her chin.

She gulped as Dub stared at her, his warm breath caressing her face. "I'm sure you figure this Scarecrow to be as innocent as a newborn naked babe, but I knows different. He's a dangerous man for a fact, and tonight I'm going to test out just how dangerous he is. You can be sure ma'am, that there's gonna be two bona-fide, rootin-tootin gunslingers coming into this fight and only one is coming out. By next week, it'll be my name being whispered through them hills."

He motioned for her to move forward with his hand. "Now come on, you're walking up front. Motherly air or not, I trust you bout as far as I can throw you."

"All this," she said as he marched her towards the door, "for the sake of some twisted sense of fame and honor?"

A smirk came to Dub's face and he holstered his weapon to Anne's relief. "Now ma'am, you're an educated woman. We both know men have killed for less."

* * *


	9. The Good The Bad and The Beautiful PT2

* * *

"I don't know sheriff but ever since that pretty gal and her fancy duded up friend left, I feel plumb tuckered out." Festus struggled to keep his head clear. "It's almost like I've been drinking all night cept I haven't…..what was that?"

Festus and Towers turned to see Dingus lying face down on the floor, which was highly unusual since he had been standing upright a moment earlier.

"Something ain't right," Towers slurred. "I'm gonna find the sawbones." Unfortunately, Festus could no longer hear the sheriff, for he was currently passed out in his chair.

Towers jumped to feet. He tried to walk but the room was spinning for him, and he could only stumble forward. He continued to stumble until he crashed into the wall, then he too succumbed to the darkness.

Two minutes later, the door of the sheriff's squeaked open. Will Du stuck his head through the crack and spotted the legendary sheriff up against the wall, seemingly unconscious.

Will pushed the door open, and he and Betty entered the room. Betty scanned the sheriff's desk and discovered the keys. Without another moment's hesitation, she headed to the cells.

Meanwhile, Will knelt over Tower's body. He knew the man was only half asleep; he wouldn't be completely out for another minute or so. "Towers, you might not be able to hear me now, but you were a great ally to my father and I suppose I find it very unfortunate that things ended up like this...If you truly have no ties to Tobias Coover, than after I bring him to justice, you have my word as a man that I'll come back and apologize, then we can take it from there. Though if you have aligned with that man who ordered the murder of my………….my father..."

"Will!" He turned to see Betty and Seth already at the door.

Seth seemed bewildered. "What happened, are they dead?"

"No, they're asleep. The chloral hydrate will keep them out for another dozen hours or more." Betty answered. "Will, time is of the essence."

Will nodded before turning back to Towers. "If you are in bed with Tobias, officers of the law or not, we'll just skip throwing hands and go straight to the gun fight….sleep tight sheriff."

He joined Seth and Betty and the two quietly slipped out of the door into the empty street. They crept into a livery barn where Jenkins and Veronica were patiently waiting with all their belongings. Ten minutes later, the party rode out of town in the dead of the night.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

Ron brushed the dirt off his hat, inspected the recently formed bullet hole, and settled it back on his head.

"The hat really means a lot to you eh?"

"Like I said, a good friend gave it to me. You may have seen her in town, pretty red head gal."

"Uh…I don't believe I've had the pleasure."

"Right, they say you come out mostly at night, like a ghost."

Bonnie interrupted "Uh, excuse me, I hate to interrupt, but I am...The town is still in danger. Somebody's got to do something!"

"I plan to…."

The air was suddenly filled with the sounds of random gunfire.

Tara gulped. "It sounds like it's coming from the dance hall."

Ron listened. "Someone's trying to get our attention."

"Shhhh, listen," The Stranger said, "whoever it is, is shouting something."

Bonnie's eyebrow furrowed. "It sounds like…someone's shouting…."

"Scarecrow," Ron finished for her. He opened the revolver cylinders and dumped the empties. He then reached behind him and plucked live rounds from the shell loops in his gun bullet. He replaced the empties and snapped the cylinder closed. "What you just heard was Dub Wilson calling me out."

"Are you serious?" Tara asked.

"As death. The man's looking for a reputation."

"That's just crazy."

Scarecrow holstered his gun with a chuckle. "It sure is."

"Isn't there another way," Tara remarked.

"Not for Dub, he wants this bad." He looked up to see the Stranger once again quietly staring at him. "You'll keep an eye on these ladies right?"

"Wait a minute, I've got a plan. Maybe you can distract him and…."

Scarcrow put up his hands "Whoa, men like Dub don't shoot unless he's got a damn near perfect shot. So he won't exchange random gunfire with me. Besides, he won't be ducking in between shadows like the others. He's calling me out in the middle of the street."

"All you have to do is hide in the shadows yourself, he won't see and while he's standing there…"

"Miss...I mean Tara, then I would be no better then these rustlers if I ambush a man asking for a fair fight."

"Smells like setup to me," The Stranger added.

"My boys, my poor boys!" The downed outlaw started to howl once again.

Scarcrow shook his head "Nope, like I said, he wants a reputation."

"You trust him."

"No, but there are rules to this game, and if you want to be known as the best, you've got to play it right."

"This isn't a game, it's life and death."

"Oh believe me, I know that." He started to walk past but the Stranger grabbed him by the arm.

"You don't have to do this. We can both take him down."

"I'm obliged for your help, but I couldn't bring you into this. Dub Wilson is dangerous."

"They're all dangerous."

"Dub is a different kind of dangerous…..listen, God knows I don't want to do this…but everything in my gut tells me I have to…and I'm the only in town who can do it….. I can always try to talk him out of it, hopefully I can scare him off."

After a brief period of silence the Stranger released Ron's arm. "Go on……ladies let's find someplace to keep you safe."

Bonnie and Tara bid Ron farewell, with Tara adding on a good luck as well. The Stranger then led them away.

Ron shut his eyes and exhaled when they were out of earshot. "Ma, Pa, Sis, Murdoch, please give me the strength to be strong."

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

"Maybe we should go back and help him?"

"Tara, ladies like us have no business being out during a gunfight," Bonnie said as they ran through the dark streets

"But Ron might need help."

"Don't worry, I'll drop you folks off at Club Banana. Then I'll go back for that fool." The Stranger replied softly.

"What about our parents?"

"No more citizens of this town will get hurt tonight, I'll see to that."

"Oh you are a blessing Stranger. Of course I believe in you." Bonnie crowed to the Stranger's growing discomfort.

"We heard gunfire out there, are the children safe?" Monique asked when they arrived at the Club Banana.

"I can only assume they are," The Stranger told her. "Miss, can you watch over these ladies?"

"Of course I can."

"We've got company!" A saloon girl by the window cried out. Immediately after that, someone fired at the door, and everyone jumped back when the windows were shot out afterwards.

"We know the Stranger is in there! Let him out and we'll let the rest of you live!"

"Stranger, can you save those children?" Monique asked.

"You have my word."

"A man's word is his bond," Monique nodded. "Okay ladies."

A girl behind the bar ducked below it and came back up with a rifle that she then tossed to Monique. A few of the other saloon girls flipped up the skirts, revealing hidden derringers strapped to their inner thighs.

"You are all armed?" The Stranger exclaimed.

"Of course, the West isn't as easy on women as some would like to believe!" Monique told the enshrouded hero as she loaded her weapon. "Now go through the back door, and save them kids, we'll protect these ladies with our lives."

"I'm obliged," The Stranger hurried to the back door. The outlaws once again shouted out their demands.

Again the night exploded with gunfire.

Someone screamed.

"Sean, you alive?" shouted a voice over the gunfire

"Moses on the Mountain Cray, the colored gal done shot me in the ass! Get the doc quick!"

"I can't, they got me pinned under the water trough…..Don't shoot no more, I surrender."

The Stranger smiled, one man shot in the behind and another man thinking he was shot in the balls. It was a tough night for rustlers in Middlewood.

Once on the street, the concealed guardian promptly spotted furtive movement in the alley between two buildings down the block. There from the dark appeared Louis Wilson and his bell, he nonchalantly stepped onto the boardwalk.

The Stranger crouched down keeping out of plain sight. This was a great opportunity. The children would be saved and the sheriff would soon be freed. But what about Ron and his gunfight? Could he hang on until…."

Click

"Put your hands on your head and stand up," Virgil Duval sneered.

The Stranger followed his instructions.

"We finally meet again, eh Stranger. Unfortunately, I can no longer abide to you breathing the same air as me."

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

Scarecrow found Dub Wilson waiting for him at the entrance of the dance hall, still shouting out his name.

"I'm here!" Scarecrow called out. He then stepped off the boardwalk into the street.

"Ronald!"

Ron stopped, looked to Dub's left, and saw Anne Possible for the first time. "What's she doing here?

"I wanted the daughter, but she'll do as our official witness.

"That's crazy!"

"Scarecrow, you better keep walking or I'll put a bullet in this woman right now."

Ron hesitated for a moment but then he touched the brim of his hat as salute and continued his walk. Dub followed suit.

Anne watched the slow but intense walk towards death. "Insane," she muttered her breath.

"Stop this Dub. I said it once and I'll say it again, there's no reason for us to fight. I don't even consider myself a gunman like you."

"How many men have you killed Scarcrow?"

"Enough"

Dub grinned "Ah let me ask you something then crow. When we first met at this very dance hall, and we locked eyes, you knew I was going to one day kill you, didn't you?"

"I thought you might one day _try _to kill me, that's for sure."

Dub laughed. "You don't consider yourself a gunman yet the very first thought in your mind when you saw me was whether or not that I might try to kill you!"

"Yes, I'll admit thinking it."

Dub continued to guffaw. "You see, we think the same." He suddenly turned serious. "We're part of the same walk and draw fraternity amigo, you might as well embrace it."

The distance between them was slowly closing. A light breeze popped little pockets of dust into the air on the street around them.

"Please stop this!"

"Shut up woman!"

"Missus Possible, would you please turn away ma'am," Ron said.

Dub and Scarecrow suddenly stopped walking. There was maybe a distance of forty to fifty feet between them.

"Stop jabbering at my witness, and draw dammit!"

Ron ignored him. "Missus P, please look away," he repeated. "I don't want to beg you to do it but I will."

Anne focused on the blond as he turned to her.

"Wait a minute, she's has to see this, she's a witness."

"All she has to do is see who's still standing at the end……Missus Possible, please?"

She nodded and turned her back to them both.

"Draw on me, sos' I can kill you and be done with it."

"Give this up and ride out of here Dub."

"Hell with that. It'll be a cold day in hell before I run from the likes of you."

"Don't do this. I'm giving you the chance to walk away, no problem."

"Draw on me you yeller son of---" Dub ceased his hollering and took a deep breath.

"You seem real edgy Dub," Scarecrow said, sensing the anxiousness in his opponent body. Maybe even bit of nervousness, these emotions would no doubt be a plus for him.

Dub inhaled and exhaled regaining some of his composure. "I'm going to count to three, if you don't pull on me by the end of the count I'm going to shoot you dead."

Scarecrow waited steady and quiet, they were past the point of no return. "I don't want to kill you Dub but you're not really giving me an option otherwise"

"One..."

His heart began beginning rapidly, pounding in his ears. The wind became a soft chime as the rest of the world faded away.

"You hear that crow, they're playing our song."

"You called the tune Dub. I hope you are ready to dance to it."

Dub tensed. "Two..."

"Last chance."

"Three!" Dub drew, cocked his hammer back and let his revolver roar.

Unfortunately his shot was off the mark, because in the span of the few seconds after he drew and before he fired, a bullet crashed into the side of his belly, knocking him off balance.

Dub doubled over but held on tightly to his gun.

"Drop it!"

"To hell with you!"

Scarecrow shot him again. The impact completely turned Dub around to the point where it almost knocked him out of his boots. He stumbled in the street but refused to fall.

"Go down."

Dub straightened his body, pain written all over his face, blood slipping past his lips. He grinned and leveled his gun. "My turn."

Scarecrow fired a third time, the shot hitting Dub's body and blowing out the other side.

Dub fell to his knees, blood blossoming on his shirt. He tried to rise to his feet, but he found that he barely had the strength to breathe anymore. He attempted to lift his arm but his revolver turned in his hand and slipped from his fingers, spinning into the dirt.

He stared at his weapon lying on the ground, his eyes wide, unbelieving. As if he couldn't understand what had just occured

"You've killed me," he whispered, partially choking from the blood in his mouth.

"I reckon I have," Scarecrow replied.

Dub stared down at his chest and then he began to laugh. "Goddamn…..you really are fast…I….I never….seen anything…..like it in my life."

Anne appeared over the kneeling Dub, dropping to her knees as well to check his condition.

"Don't…..bother ma'am. I can….feel the…. blood in my lungs, I'm drowning." Pink froth now formed on his lips. "Scarecrow……out….there, your name, it's spreading…..like wildfire…….on dry grass…..You're marked like Cain, brother…." He smiled and fell to his sides. "Watch you're back or we'll be meeting….again…on boot hill…real soon….." he coughed up blood. "So…damn...fast….I…got ….a….shot off…though….."

"What do you want on your stone Dub?"

"Tell em I died game," he wheezed.

"A normal man would have died long ago," Anne commented.

"Hey!" Dub suddenly cried. "Crow….are you….a gunman now?"

"I..."

"He's gone," Anne stated.

Dub Wilson gazed off into the night sky, his eyes wide and staring.

Ron let out his breath fully conscious that he no longer had that familiar feeling of nausea that usually followed these events. "You're right again Murdoch it is getting easier." He muttered under his breath

Anne stood up and grabbed his hand. "There was nothing you could have done more, it was self defense, you….you had no choice."

"Yeah," Ron said softly.

"Are you injured?"

Dub's only shot had missed, but not by much. The bullet penetrated Ron's vest and grazed him like a blazing hot piano wire cutting across his ribs.

Ron checked his cut. "Nothing a bit of salve wouldn't cure." He reloaded his gun. "Missus P, would you stay here, I got to go help the Stranger."

"Kim's out here...of course she would be!" Anne said concern in her voice.

Ron felt as if Anne had pistol whipped him. "What... Kim's the Stranger?"

"Why yes, I thought you knew. You being so close and all."

"But….but….the Stranger is a man!"

"It's a disguise," Anne said flatly.

"I….but…." Ron stammered as he thought it over. "Of course, she would be crazy and wild enough to do it!" He shook his head. "This is no time to be amazed, the town is still in trouble…. I'll have to ask you to keep to the dance hall Missus P. "

"There will be more killing, right?"

"I reckon that all depends on them, not me," Ron said. "I doubt the rest will be as dedicated to fighting to the end as Dub here. But I hope the doc has some extra leeches at hand cuz he'll be having a few more patients to treat for a fact."

Anne smiled. "Ronald, the medical profession hasn't practiced with leeches for years now."

"Really?" He blushed in embarrassment. "Darn, it's hell to be ignorant," he said before running off.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

**Nine years ago: Possible home**

"**James, this is a lovely home you've built for yourself."**

"**Thank you mother, I think we did alright."**

**Kim took a seat next to her grandmother. While most of the Possible clan were at the table, Kim was currently enthralled with only one person, her grandmother.**

"**Yes your mother is right, it is quite beautiful," her grandfather said as he took a forkful of lamb. "When you first said you wanted to move out west, I thought you had gone mad."**

**James smiled. "I'm sorry to say the privileged life of a prestigious ambassador's son didn't quite appeal to me. I'm not much for traveling across the ocean anyhow"**

"**No need to apologize son, I fully understand the appeal of this land. This is a truly beautiful spot you've chosen for yourself." **

"**Enough about us," Anne remarked, "tell us about your visit to China."**

**Henry Possible's eyes twinkled as he looked to his wife. "It was pretty tame this time, except…well…..James, you are fully aware at how brazen your mother is."**

"**Oh boy," James laughed.**

**Nana Possible cleared his throat. "As we're being escorted by Imperial guards to the capital to meet with the Emperor, we happen to witness another sect of guards throwing a man into a river."**

**Henry grinned. "Of course, my wife couldn't stand to see such ill treatment of another human being."**

"**Dear you knew I was a humanist when you asked for my hand."**

**Kim straightened herself in her seat and listened attentively.**

"**So she slaps one of the guards and dives into the river, with her clothes still on….."**

**Kim hung every word, no, on every syllable of the story. No one loved tales of her grandmother's misadventures as much she did.**

"**She wasn't even supposed to be there, I was too travel alone!….We could have been killed!"Heny hooted**

**After dinner, Kim tugged at her grandmother's skirt. "Did you really save that man from drowning by yourself?"**

"**Yes I did sweetie."**

"**Why?"**

"**Because it was the right to do I suppose, and he turned out to be a very special man."**

**Kim's face lit up, this was part of the story that had not been revealed at the dinner table.**

"**Really?" **

"**Yes, he was a monk."**

"**A monk?"**

"**Oh yes, a monk with many secrets." She bent over and whispered into Kim's ear. **

"**After I saved him, he found me again at the capital days later. He taught me some of his very special secrets as a thank you. Would you like me to teach you as well honey?"**

**Kim nodded emphatically. "Yes please."**

**Nana Possible ran her hand through Kim's hair and winked. "Good answer."**

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

Louis placed his bell on the boardwalk. "You thought you had everything under control eh?" he laughed. "But ya fell into our trap, you came to us. We got you, and Dub's probably ventilated Cooley real good by now. Two birds with one stone."

At gun point, Virgil led The Stranger into the street where Louis Wilson, Ralph Big OX Malone, and Lin Norris stood waiting.

"Because of you, we won't have enough men to fight off the posse. So we're going to hightail it out of here with all the valuables we can. Though I figure we should have a good lead if the posse finds the town burning to the ground."

"You're a real bastard Louis Wilson," The Stranger declared.

Louis laughed out loud. "Well that might be true after all, my pa was a rolling stone."

"Before we leave, we're going to beat you half to death," Virgil snarled.

The Stranger turned to him with a smile. "Are you going to be the one to do it?"

"That'll be me," Ralph Morgan stepped forward.

"When Ralph's done picking you apart, I'm going to bull whip the piss out ya!" Virgil exclaimed.

"Then we'll tie you to our horses and drag you across the town as we leave."

"All that for little ole me?"

Virgil stepped away from the Stranger as Ralph flexed his arms and puffed out his chest. "This won't take long, I'm a professional."

"Professional ass I assume."

Ralph frowned then he took a swing at the Stranger, who dodged the blow but felt the felt the wind from the swing. It became obvious that not many people could take more than a few blows from the big man.

Ralph continued to back the Stranger up the boardwalk with his powerful swings, until the masked hero's back met with a wooden post. Ralph came forward throwing a hard left. The Stranger rolled away in time. There was a loud thud as Ralph's powerful fist slammed into the wood.

He hollered in pain and the stranger struck him with a roundhouse right. The big man staggered backwards.

"I'll show you!" he shouted.

"All you have shown me so far is your mouth, ya big ape!"

The Stranger danced around the big man, avoiding his blows, and striking when the opportunity called for it.

Furious Ralph took a boxing stance. "Okay, I'll beat you at your own game."

The Stranger replied by kicking him in the right shin. Ralph cried out once again.

"Yee haw! He fights like a beast, so whip him like a man Stranger!" Lunsford yelped from the second floor window of a building across the street

"You're next old man!" Virgil seethed. "You can be sure of that!"

Lunsford ducked backed into his room.

"I ain't hurt!" Ralph exclaimed when he was down to one knee. He took a hand full of dirt and slung it at the Stranger's face. The dust struck the mask and the Stranger instinctively went to wipe it off. Ralph jumped to his feet and using his thick fist, he hooked the Stranger in the stomach.

The inconspicuous adventurer bowed at the waist, rocking back and forth, gasping for air before falling to the ground. After a few tense seconds Ralph pulled the Stranger up, dragged the vigilante by the collar, and shoved his adversary through the wooden door of one of the town's stores.

Ralph shrugged and chuckled under his breath, looking around as if making sure his comrades had seen what he had done. "I thought there was more to him than this!"

"Are you okay Mister?" The store owner asked as the Stranger moaned and groaned amid the shattered remains of the door.

It took the covert paladin a full thirty seconds to get back up on two feet. "I'm alright sir."

"How did your hat stay on through all that?" The owner asked.

"Magic," the Stranger replied. "Sir about those handles..."

The store owner looked at the barrel filled with wooden axe handles in the corner of the room. "Help yourself," he said.

"Much obliged."

Ralph and the rustlers had been sharing a hearty laugh, when the Stranger reemerged.

"Lookie here, he's brought an equalizer," Virgil said.

The Stranger dashed off the boardwalk and into the street.

"If you think that twig will help."

Before he could finish Ralph's face exploded with pain. He didn't even see the axe handle slice through the air. The Stranger twirled the handle like a baton and caught Ralph on his other cheek.

The large man backed up and clutched at his face. Furious he then charged like a rampaging elephant. The stranger sidestepped the attack and clubbed him on the ear. It stunned Ralp and everyone could see it.

With a quick step forward, the Stranger struck Ralph below the ribs, forcing a gush of air from the big man. The handle streaked in the air, catching Ralph in the lower back, then on his right knee, the back of the head, and finally his chin.

Ralph's gold tooth hit the floor at Virgil's feet. The big hombre buckled forward and landed on his cheek, his rear end sticking out in the air.

Louis sighed. "Is he dead?"

Ralph groaned pitifully.

"No," Virgil replied angriliy, "but he might be stuttering for the rest of his life.

Louis smacked his forehead with his hand. "I can't believe this here thing is a happening to me." He pulled out his pistol, Lin and Virgil did the same. All three had their sights trained on the encircled target in the street.

Louis walked up close to the Stranger. "Maybe I should shoot you in belly so you die screaming." He walked behind his enemy. "Or I'll just kill you quick with a bullet in the back of the neck."

"How about neither?"

Louis' head snapped towards the voice. "Scarecrow…but….but….how?" he stammered. "Where's Dub?"

"Damnedest thing happened, he got in front of a bullet."

Louis gasped.

Ron shook his head. "I'm sorry, that was cruel. It took three shots to bring him down, he died as game as I've ever seen."

"I'll kill you," Louis shouted.

"No, you won't."

"Yes I will!"

"Nuh-uh."

The way I see it, we have three guns here right now," Lin announced. "You think you can handle all three a coming at once?"

"It's been done before," Scarecrow answered. "Let me show you boys something." He pulled on his right sleeve and revealed the wrapping around his injured wrist.

"So what?"

"So you should know how fast your brother was on the draw……I beat him with this injured hand."

"You must have back-shot him, ya yeller bastard!"

"I'm just saying, maybe you ought-a think before you get killed over nothing."

All guns were now pointed at the Scarecrow. "We don't care how fast you are. You may hit one of us, but two of us is sure to take you down!" Virgil spewed angrily.

Scarecrow shrugged. "Maybe one of you can hit me, if you're lucky, but I know for a fact that at least two will be going with me. I wonder who will it be?"

The outlaws nervously glanced at each other. Louis grabbed the Stranger from the back, creating a human shield "naw one of us maybe, but you will be dropped for damn sure."

_Now what?_ Ron thought.

Louis using Kim as a shield complicated things. He had no clear shot at the gang leader besides his head. He could easily cut Dub down by aiming for his skull but…….Kim.

Scarecrow noticed that Virgil and Lin were getting anxious. He'd have to do it, strike Louis down with a shot between the eyes, and then he'd go after the other two. He imagined the scenario again and again in his mind. His right hand slowly inched towards the butt of his gun, preparing for his next move.

Though he felt something was unusual. Kim wasn't even struggling against her captor. In fact she stood perfectly still. Was she frozen with fear? Nah, not her.

As he was wondering what she was up to, she deftly elbowed Louis in the gun. Then she followed that with an elbow strike to the face knocking Louis loose from her.

"Now!" Kim called out.

Scarecrow yanked his colt out, his first blast pulverized Louis' right shoulder sending him spinning into the street. His gun fired again and Virgil's elbow shattered into many pieces. He dropped onto his back, and Lin's ill timed shot passed harmlessly over head, from the ground Scarecrow blew away Lin's left kneecap.

In a matter seconds the three would be killers lay in the dirt crying in agony.

Kim ran over to Ron. "Are you okay, did you get hit?"

He smiled. "It is you KP."

"Yeah," she smiled as well. "Hey…you look hurt."

"That was from earlier. Listen, Louis Wilson is till alive."

"What?"

They both turned to see Louis crawling along the bloody ground to the boardwalk. He reached for his bell with his left arm, snatched it up and rang with all his might before passing out from the pain.

"No!" Kim shouted.

In a large shack a few hundred yards from the town, Tom Braden listened closely for the ringing bell, if he heard five rings, he would make his move.

When he was sure he heard it, he turned to the more than two dozen children who had been tied up in the middle of room. "Sorry kids, just following orders." He quickly started to sling a coal oil tin in random direction as the children cried out in horror. He tossed a match into a corner of the room, hastily retreated from the schoolhouse, hopped onto his horse and rode away without looking back.

"Where are you going?" Ron asked when Kim darted into the livery barn, she came out a moment later on horseback. "I have to save the children." She spurred the horse on and galloped at full speed.

Ron winced from the pain in chest but shook away the pain. "Where did I leave my blasted horse?"

When Kim arrived, smoke was already coming from the school house. She dismounted and scurried into the building.

Luckily for them, Tom Braden had not done a good job starting the fire. He tossed the match in a random corner without taking into consideration the structure of the building or the lack of wind blowing outside.

Kim reached down to her feet and plucked a small blade from a hidden compartment in her boot. "Thank god for Wade." She rushed to the first child and started to cut off her restraints.

"Look, the door," the girl cried when she was freed. Kim turned to see that flames were beginning to lick at the entrance of the school. "We're trapped!"

"Children, listen carefully and do as I tell you," Kim said as she went from one child to the next. "When I free you, stay close to the floor and go towards the window. I promise you'll be alright!"

She heard hooves hitting the earth outside. "Ki…..Stranger, are you in there?"

"Yes!"

"Okay….I'm coming to help!"

"What, wait the entrance is blocked by fir….."

She didn't finish the warning when suddenly Ron launched himself through the flames and hit the floor of the schoolhouse with a loud thud, seemingly unscathed.

"My God, what the hell was I thinking doing something loco like that?" he said from the floor. "I could have been barbecue!"

"Your arm!"

He looked at his arm and saw a small flame creeping up his sleeve. "GREAT JERUSALEM, I'M ON FIRE!

"Roll on the ground, roll!"

Ron did as she instructed and extinguished the flame. "Thank the lord…" he exhaled while rolling up his sleeves. "What can I do to help?"

"Shoot out the windows and get the children out of here!" Kim continued. "Don't forget to crouch everyone."

"Can do." He smashed the windows with a few well placed shots and helped the first group of freed children scramble out the window. Kim worked quickly, cutting through the knots that tied the children legs and arms together and pushing them towards Ron and the window.

The building started to break down when the last child was freed. She grabbed the child by the arm and bounded to the window.

"It's coming down!"

"Oh man," Ron leaped through window. Kim and the child did the same. A minute or so later, the front wall of the school house collapsed into a fiery heap.

Twenty yards away, Ron, Kim, and the children looked on at the rising flames and black smoke that had once been the schoolhouse.

"The school's gone but at least we saved the children."

"Boo-yah."

"What was that? Was that Portuguese?"

Ron shrugged. "I'm not sure what it is, it always felt like the right thing to say after something good or exciting happens. I figure it to be a little like yee-haw, cept better."

"Uh-huh," Kim was about to say more when she heard additional horses approaching. "I'd better go."

"I'll stay here and let the townsfolk know what happened."

"Okay," Kim mounted her horse. "I'll see you later."

Ron didn't reply.

"Did you hear me?" she told him.

"Yes I did, sorry….Goodbye." He turned away.

She opened her mouth to say something else but the townspeople were rapidly approaching. Without another word, she trotted away.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

A few months ago:

**Ron held his revolvers over the well near Murdoch's house. He stared at the weapons in his hands for a full two minutes before placing them back in their rightful place.**

**He found Aquene on Murdoch's porch. "What happened?" the Indian asked.**

"**I couldn't drop them…I was scared to, no... I've been scared plenty of times. This was something more than scared. It hit real deep."**

"**Are you sure?" **

"**Yes, these Colts, they've saved my life so many times, and I don't really know anything besides how to use these revolvers….My journey's over, my families gone, Murdoch's gone, these guns are all I have in this life."**

**Aquene stood up. "Then find something else my friend, something else of meaning to will always be something else for everyone."**

"**Is that more wisdom from the forefathers."**

"**No that is from me."**

"**Find something else, Like what?"**

"**One finger alone cannot lift a pebble." Now that is wisdom from the forefathers."**

**Ron thought about the statement, though once again he didn't fully understand. **

"**When are you leaving?"**

"**Soon."**

"**Where are you off to?"**

"**Middlewood I reckon."**

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

"Thank you for spending the night here Mr. Cooley," the hotel clerk told Ron.

After last nights exhaustive activities, which included helping the town's bucket brigade put out the fire, Ron had paid for a hotel room and shut himself in for the night and most of the next day. He woke up with his wrist throbbing in pain

During the night, he had decided it was best for him to leave town and not look back.

"Sir," the clerk added embarrassment clearly on his face. "Um, may I ask a favor of you?"

"Shoot."

"Can I touch you?"

"What?" Ron asked incredulously.

"Well, a gunman such as yourself who's survived so many gunfights, you must be damned lucky. I was just wondering if I could touch ya for luck, maybe it'll rub off on me."

Ron wanted to tell the clerk that didn't make a lick of sense. With everything that had happened to him, he would have considered himself anything but lucky. But he saw how eager the young man was and he decided to go along with it.

"Go right ahead."

The man reached for Ron arm's with hesitance as if he was about to touch a burning pot. Eventually he grabbed Ron's sleeve and pulled away. "Thank you sir."

Ron said his farewells, turned to leave, and ran smack into Barkin's chest. "We've got to stop meeting like this Sheriff B, people will get suspicious."

"It's about time you crawled out of your hole Cooley."

"You here to run me out of town sheriff?"

"Why would I do that, after what you've done?"

"I once knew a man who drifted a bit and carried a badge here and there when certain townspeople asked for help. But once he cleaned up the town, the good citizens couldn't wait for him to saddle up and move out."

"Yes that does happen, human nature I reckon. Some folks don't care to have certain….elements in their town." He said choosing his words carefully. "But I'm not the ungrateful type….which is why I'm here. I thought I'd thank you and ask you to extend a personal thanks to the Stranger for helping the town during a dire time."

"I would sheriff, if I knew who or where the Stranger was. But I don't."

Barkin smiled. "Yes, I suppose you don't. Well if you happen to run into…."

"I'm leaving sheriff, going to ride out today."

"Be a shame to leave the town now, we're growing every day."

"It's for the best.'

"Where you headed?"

'I'm not sure, I thought I'd ride to California, then wherever……By the way how, are the prisoners? What happened after you rounded them up last night?"

"Oh, most of them are hurt real bad, got the doc working on them until a U.S Marshal can show and take them away. It's more than they deserve actually. It's damn hard work keeping the citizens from starting there own necktie party. Luckily, the Circle C and Bar B boys rode in late last night, they've been helping me keep the peace and lending a hand rebuilding the school."

"Mister Possible is in town?" Ron inquired.

"No, he went back home with the Missus, she was tuckered out from helping the doc with the injured."

"Oh good, they're not in town….well take care sheriff," Ron said extending out his hand.

Barkin took his hand. Ron winced his swollen wrist still smarting from the night before "You too boy. Maybe in the future, you'll stop by for a visit again. You are always welcome in my town."

"Maybe I will." What needed to be said had already been said and they both knew it. Ron turned away. "So long."

He mounted his horse and started towards the town entrance. It was a slow ride, as he wanted to take one last look around before leaving for good. A group of young women exited the Rockwaller's Dress Shoppee, among them was Bonnie and Tara. The respectable ladies like Bonnie made as if he didn't exist Tara slowed down and let the group pass her. She mouthed a quiet 'thank you' to him. He touched the brim of his hat; she smiled and quickly rejoined her friends.

Ron continued on.

He had expected more treatment like that of Bonnie and her bunch, but while he did get the snubs and the hateful "damned to hell" looks from the religious types, he found a lot of people glancing up at him. Some children whispered to each other and kept their distances. Others, along with their parents, thanked him for helping with the fire. Things got really strange when he caught the eyes of some women he knew for sure were married slanting towards him, and 'modestly' batting their eyelashes at him. Things got worse when he passed the saloons with soiled doves. Their looks, unlike the respectable folk were bold, frank, and inviting.

Ron felt the heat rush to his cheeks. "I reckon Bo was right about gunman," he told himself.

Something in the window of a general store caused his to stop in his tracks. There, behind the window pane, sat the stiff body of Dub Wilson for all to see. He heard of times when outlaws were killed and their bodies were propped up in front of crowds but he had never seen it before.

Dub's scoreboard hung over his head mockingly. His named had been scratched out and a single notch had been created in the Scarecrow watched on in what seemed like slow motion as the good citizens of the town passed by and stared. They nodded, and pointed.

He glanced at Dub Wilson one last time before riding on. He couldn't blame anyone, out here in the west sometimes people had to see with their own eyes that indeed justice had been done.

Dub was one of the few people Ron had seen die with a smile on his face and it disturbed him quite a bit. He knew it would stay with him for a quite a long time, joining another long line of sights that occasional haunted his dreams. Though honestly he was having less and less nightmares.

Ths situation brought to mind another one of Aquene's proverbs "_Make my enemy brave and strong, so that if defeated, I will not be ashamed."_

Today, he finally understood what that saying meant.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

Ron fell out of his thoughts when he heard someone riding up behind him. He pulled in his reins and looked over his shoulder to see who the rider was.

"Oh lord," he sighed.

As he was thinking whether or not to make a break for it, the second rider caught up to him.

"Howdy stranger," he said as Kim pulled El Diablo up next to him.

"You lied to me," she said.

"What?"

"You lied to my face and said you weren't a gunman. I value honesty among my friends."

"I'm….I….I'm…." he sighed, "it would be fair to say that I've fired a weapon or two before."

"Indeed."

"Well you never told me about The Stranger."

'You never asked."

"Oh."

"First you lie to me about being up being gunman, then you just pack up and leave without saying goodbye."

"I thought it would be better this way."

"You thought wrong." She paused. "You know, you don't have to leave. My father told me about how you helped save his life, and my mother let me in on the incident with Dub, how it was self defense"

"Well it was nothing, I had to support the brand."

"No, I think it was a little more that that…..I want to ask you something, you could have killed Louis Wilson or any of the others when you had the chance. Why didn't you?'

Ron ran his hands across his face. "There are times when...sometimes I find its not nesceessary to kill unless I've really got to that's all, and the thing about Louis it was because you were there. No, not just cuz of you….I can barely shoot a man in front of a woman, let alone kill them….I just never could!'

'Why?"

He shrugged. "I don't know, it….." he searched himself for an answer, "maybe...it just seems impolite."

She chuckled in amazement. "You know, you don't have to leave. You're welcome at the Circle C and in Middlewood I hear"

_Of course! The danged sheriff ratted me out!_

"Listen, I've made up my mind. I'm leaving town for good."

"Why do you feel the need to leave?"

"So many questions. Listen, I don't belong here. The thing is, I draw trouble like an outhouse draws flies….this….this was dream that should have been buried with the dead along time ago…." He said solemnly.

He stopped when Kim rode up even closer to him and stared into his face.

"What…"

"Right now, your face is saying I've done bad things. But you're eyes and your actions say something different."

"I….."

"I don't know a lot about your back trail. But I know you haven't done anything but good since you've come to town. That's enough for me. I'd hate to lose a friend over nothing."

"It's much more than nothing," he said softly.

What followed was a moment of silence between the two.

"Alright, I can't tell you how to live you life," she turned her horse around, "but I can tell you that it's not possible to plan a future by living in the past."

He grinned sadly. "You sound like someone I know…."

"Goodbye Ron Cooley."

"Stoppable, Ron Stoppable."

She paused. "Goodbye then Ron Stoppable."

"Goodbye Kim Possible."

She began to ride away at full gallop.

"Don't you know it's indecent for women to ride astride?" he called after her.

"So I've heard," she called back without turning around.

He watched her ride until she was out of sight. "Goodness, it'll take a powerful man to get a handle on that one."

Ron took several breaths of fresh air and continued down the road. "In a few months, they'll all forget about me. They'll settle back to their lives and I'll just drift…..drift around for the rest of my life……fighting off challengers….until I end up face down in the street……..Then they'll bury me on boot hill….cuz I've got no family to report my death to…."

Ron stopped. Murdoch had died alone but at least he had people to mourn him, people to remember his name, people who thought fondly about him.

The hooting of an owl immediately captured his attention. His head instinctively whirled towards the sound. There on the tree directly before him he spotted the bird, it's eyes locked onto his. The bird's eyes seemed to hypnotized him. It hooted at him once then abruptly flew off.

Ron felt a chill snake down his spine he closed his eyes, reopened it, and looked towards the horizon.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

Possible Home:

"Father, does the name Stoppable mean anything to you?"

"He told you his real name too, did he?"

She nodded.

"I asked the same of your mother. It has an air of familiarity to it, I'll study on it some more." He patted his daughter on the shoulder. "I've rubbed elbows with quite a few men and I know a good man when I see him. Stoppable was good man….if he ever decides to come back, he knows he's welcome here."

Kim hugged her father, thanked him, and walked out of the house. She sat down underneath the large oak tree and reflected on the past two days. It was then that the sound of crunching leaves brought her downcast eyes upward.

"Hey KP."

She jumped to her feet. "Ron! You've returned."

"Yes, I was out there on the trail, when my big foot starting acting up. When my left toe itches, it means hail's coming."

Kim looked up at the cloudless blue sky. "Hail?"

"Oh yes, and I wasn't going to be caught out there in a hail storm. I knew someone who got caught in a hail storm once, he was almost beaten to death by hail the size of goose eggs."

Her right eyebrow rose. "Really?"

"I've always said I'd rather drown then get beat to death ….and of course, it's not just the hail either."

"It isn't?"

"It happens to be cougar mating season. I just remembered that."

"Of course."

"The cougars get really wild out there. It's not safe this time of year."

Kim smirked. "You're lying again."

"I swear, if it's wasn't for those heated cougars and the hail, I would have been long gone." He stepped forward and tripped on the tip of an exposed root, he fell into Kim. She started to tumble backwards but she kept her balance, as he did. Together they kept each other from falling.

"That was close."

"If we're going to be friends again, you've got to give your word you'll be honest with me from now own."

"You have my word. But sometimes honesty, complete and total honesty, takes awhile to come out. It can take a toll on a fella if he ain't set with it yet."

"I understand."

"You do?"

"I do."

He smiled. "You are something else, you know that?"

She smiled back. "You can get let go off me now"

"Oh," he removed arms from around her, "I'm sorry."

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

Jimmy Blamhammer adjusted the cushion that was under his rear end. He touched his back and it groaned with agony. The stagecoach he and Felix were riding in bounced up down along the rocky road. It was a miracle that the stagecoach didn't roll over

"Such despicable travel arrangements, how do people survive out here?"

"We get by," Felix replied as he looked out the window.

"How much longer until we get to town," Jimmy complained.

"Few days as the crow flies."

Jimmy reached into his suitcase and continued the laborious task of organizing all the notes he had taken over the course of his time in the west. He leafed through a few pages. "The way a few people talk about this Scarecrow, you'd think he was a saint."

"I know, but it's probably rumors. Most of the gunfighters out here wouldn't know a Christian act if Jesus himself came down and shined their boots."

Jimmy watched the bounty hunter closely. "This trail of vengeance is because Scarecrow killed a friend of yours, right?"

"Yes sir," Felix said, his gaze still out on the prairie.

"According to my notes, your friend was a vicious outlaw."

"He quit that life."

"I'm under the notion that this isn't simply about vengeance."

Felix finally turned to him. "You're right, it's something a bit more petty….."

"I wouldn't mind hearing it. You do happen to be a major antagonist in the story after all."

Felix rolled his eyes "why not...My father died when I young. I don't remember much about him. But one of my earliet memories is of him telling me once that if a man isn't strong enough to protect the folks he cares for, than he has no worth….. My ma always told me about how hard worked to protect his loved ones...fought off Indian raids,and rustlers on his own..." Felix let the words hang between them. "Shem became kin to me, he accepted me after my accident, when I felt like half a man…..and then one day, Shem was killed. I couldn't do nothing about it, I was weak back then. But I've looked in the eyes of more than a fair share of gunslingers since then, I reckon I'm strong enough now. If I ain't, then Scarecrow will kill me. Either way, I'll get my answer."

He turned back to the window. "As petty as it is, it's not only vengeance that drives me, I'm going to prove to my Pa that I'm the strongest he had**  
**

* * *

**Don't stop believin'  
Hold on to that feelin'  
Streetlight people!!!**

A/N There you go guys as usual feedback is very much necessary. I want to hear what you have to say about…Kim's discovery of Scarecrow…The showdown….the Stranger's adventures in town….Tara, Bonnie…..Kim and Ron's chat at the end…Felix ….Will Du etc etc…

More news I think I may have a role for Shego but I don't want to force it. Especially if Drakken isn't involved. And I'm pretty sure Ron's past should be revealed in the next two to three chapters

I want to know if you guys would prefer a quick rundown (abridged version) so we can get back to the main story line faster or a fully detailed flashback either way Ron's past will be at least two chapters long

And if you've got questions about the whole owl thing go back and read chapter 4

Well hope you liked the chapter

Here's my updated schedule for those who care (last time I do this in a story I swear)

Eternal sunshine of a Ronless mind one shot (should be done by next week)

Wedding Bells

The anticipated return to Used to be a Hero

Hero or About a Ron or KP the show. The muses will decide

Oh and I will be rewriting my first multi chappie fic ever "Vengaza Arc." Periodically updating the story as I rewrite it

Now I'm going back to me belated Fannie Award Party...WHOOOOOOOO!!!!!!!!!

_**Don't stop...**_Cut to Black

(Sopranos joke)


	10. Calm Before

A/N Welcome back folks.

I know there is a huge gap between updates in this story. But you've got to understand, it takes a while to work on this plot and to keep a semi-authentic old west setting, the lingo, clothes and all that jazz

So I apologize for the long delays but hopefully the wait is worth it. Oh and I can always use a little help with the bits of Spanish I use. Online translators suck.

* * *

**Arizona Territory:**

From the second floor window of an Italian style villa, two men stared down into the vast courtyard below.

One man leaned out the window. A dapper and stylish hat, an elegant striped shirt beneath a blue river trail vest, jet black pants, a string tie and two deluxe black sleeve garters completed the attire of one Lilly the Devil.

"Let her rip boys!" he shouted from the window.

The eerie silence of the courtyard was shattered by the thunder of multiple chambers of a Gatling gun being fired as it slowly churned around on a tripod.

A bare-chested outlaw swung the muzzle of the Gatling gun back and forth, cranking with all his might. 600 rounds tore into a group of scarecrows scattered about the courtyard. The targets were blasted into shards of hay.

Eventually the rapid fire of the Gatling gun came to a halt, its ammunition spent.

Lily pulled back into the window with a grin on his clean-shaven face. He turned to the man beside him who wore a gray Victorian top hat, dark Edgewood pants, a silk puff tie, a blue baker city vest, and gray gloves on each hand.

"Mister Hench, walk and talk with me"

Jack Hench, walking stick in hand followed Lilly down a sunlit hallway.

"That's what I like about you Mister Hench you sell a fine crop of products. I'll be glad to take that exemplary piece o' technology off your hands."

"As always Lily it's a pleasure doing business with you and your cohorts. The country needs more entrepreneurs like you. Things have been slow since the war ended."

Lilly chuckled "you made a _killing_ off the war didn't you?"

"Of course in my line of work, war is always good for business. Which makes me curious, why would Ángeles Caídos be buying up arms?"

Lilly sniffed "I am sure I have no idea what you are talking about. What pray-tell is Ángeles Caídos?"

"Then perhaps you can explain why, and I say this with no disrespect, but why would a notorious cardsharp like yourself be buying a Gatling gun. You couldn't possibly have that many enemies."

"Oh I wouldn't bet on that" Lilly laughed "but to rest your curious mind, I'm not buying it for myself, this particular item is a gift for a Comanche friend of mine."

Hench's eyes went wide "You can't possibly mean…… if you do that a lot of good Christians west of the Mississippi will be in danger."

"Ain't nothing wrong with leveling the playing field a bit. Those injuns deserve a fighting chance don't they?"

They stopped before a pair of large double doors "Your "friend" aside do you have any plans for the rest of the Comanche tribe?"

"I'm afraid I cannot divulge such details. But there are rumors in the wind that the cavalry will have a lot more work on their hands in the future."

Jack Hench's eyebrows furrowed in thought "that has the potential to send the entire west into chaos; on the heels of the war no less."

"Having some moral objections are we Mister Hench?"

Hench scoffed "like I said Lilly war is very good for business."

Lily smiled as they pushed through the double doors and entered a large parlor where six men sat around a large circular table.

A man at the table deftly dealt cards to the others "Lilly, get over here" he laughed "someone done stole the payroll of one of ole Bill's hotels and burned it down in the process."

After stepping further into the room, a young boy quickly rushed in and handed Lilly a sheet of paper.

Meanwhile the man known as Bill pounded his fist onto the table "It ain't right. I can't understand what kind of man would be loco enough to tangle with us. I'm telling you it's an inside job, it must be"

Lilly chortled "Now calm down old timer, remember your heart condition, it's just a minor mishap, I'll handle it."

He gestured to an empty seat. "Why don't you sit for a spell Hench, play a round with me and the boys?"

Hench shook his head "You must figure that I'm touched in the head. There's no one more foolish than a man willing to play a hand with Lilly the Devil."

Jack Hench waited for Lilly's reply, but he quickly realized that the letter the young boy delivered had captured the gambler's undivided attention.

"Danggit!"

"What's wrong Lilly?" Bill asked

"A telegram from Tom Braden, the boys in his outfit got themselves all shot up. Hell I was waiting on the money that they were bringing in."

"What happened, they run into a posse or sumthin?"

Lilly's eyes continued to dart back and forth as he scanned the letter "Uh-uh it seems like they got done in by one man."

"One man?" Jack Hench spouted in shock "who?"

The room fell into silence as everyone waited for Lilly's revelation.

Lilly to everyone's surprise slapped his knee with laughter "Oh my goodness, lady luck's been so good to me over the years I should just about marry her…….Like they say boys when one door closes another one opens."

"I never thought losing money could be so funny" Bill stated.

"Losing money is a small price to pay Bill, for some very interesting information" Lilly froze "hold on now I got an idea, I got a wonderful idea, and if the Big Sugar likes it then we can get started right away."

"So what's the idea?

"Yes spill it already or hobble your mouth!"

Lily took in a deep breath, and they all could see the twinkle of mischief in his eyes "I got a new game to play, high stakes; big money on the line of course. Anybody who's anybody is going want to get in."

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

"Where are we going?"

Ron brought his gaze from the ground being trampled beneath a horse's feet. The grass below glittered from recent rain

"Hmmmm?"

Kim pulled on the reins. They were currently seated in a surrey or a light, four-wheeled, two-seated carriage.

"Where exactly are we headed?"

"Oh, you've been asking where I've spent most of my afternoons so I'm going to show you my napping spot."

"Napping spot?"

"Yep"

"So what's that?" she gestured to the hefty basket sitting on his lap

He looked down "this is a picnic basket" he said simply.

"What's it for?"

"For a picnic"

"Ah how silly of me to ask"

"I guess I should have mentioned it sooner, but I didn't think you would come along."

"Why wouldn't I?"

"Well its common knowledge that Josh has staked a claim on you……"

She stared daggers into him "staked a claim on me?"

He bristled "It's a figure of speech of course; however you're involved…..together so I assumed it might seem um disreputable if people see us."

"See us doing what?"

"See us going on a seemingly romantic picnic."

"Romantic picnic?"

"Seemingly romantic" he added quickly "if a person was not aware that we were only friends it may _seem_ to be romantic."

"Ron."

"Yes?"

"You're thinking too much….for once" Kim took off her bonnet and leaned out from under the surrey's canopy, momentarily closing her eyes she let the sunlight wash over her face.

Ron shuddered slightly.

"What's wrong?"

He shook his head "I'm getting this syrupy feeling in my chest area. I might be coming down with a mild case of the collywobbles.'

She glanced at him with obvious concern on her face "Hopefully my mother properly cleaned you up, more gunshot victims die from infection then an actual bullet."

He grinned "is that right? No worries, that wasn't really what I would call close to an actual bullet wound."

"Uh-huh" she wanted to make a remark about that, but thought better of it. "A weekday afternoon picnic, you are aware that there was plenty of work to be done around the ranch."

Ron removed his hat and ran his hands through his hair "If there was one thing that I've learned in my short time in this world it's that there's no fun in labor."

She shook her head "I am going to go ahead and assume that I am the only one here who has difficulty seeing a certain lazy body running a ranch in the future."

"What kind of man would I be without a dream?"

After a lull in the conversation she turned to him "I'd be happy to go on a picnic with you"

"What?"

"That's what I would have said if you had just asked me outright"

"Oh, I apologize……We can still turn around if that's what you prefer."

"No, we've come this far, and besides" she glanced at the basket "the smell of that pie I assume you baked is driving me batty. I don't figure I can go another minute without taking a bite out of it."

"That's good cuz we're here"

They arrived at Cotton Creek, where they met up with rippling water chuckling over a bed of sand surrounded by a stand of cottonwoods and willows.

"It's beautiful" Kim exclaimed as she descended from the surrey.

"Yep" Ron unbuckled his gun belt, left it on the seat of the surrey and then set the horse to graze.

For the next hour he and Kim ate, drank, and talked, sitting comfortably close, leaving Ron with combined emotions of anxiousness, fear and delight.

Kim snatched the last crumbs of pie off her plate and popped them into her mouth "Listen if you're going to be at the box social this weekend. You're going to have to get some new clothes and perhaps you should think about a trip to the barber."

"I'm doing what now?"

"I told you about the box social this weekend didn't I? The entire town is looking forward to doing a little celebrating after the recent events." She licked her lips "Speaking of which I hear a city marshal from Denver will be in town today. He'll be bringing a posse to gather Louis and his boys; maybe we should see them out."

He glanced up at the cloudless blue sky "nah I don't find it particularly appealing to be around men I've shot."

She eyed him curiously "yes you did shoot them didn't you. And you killed Dub Wilson"

"That I did."

She pulled her eyes away from him "it's still hard to believe…….anyway for the social this Saturday; you'll need to put on your best bib and tucker."

"I'm not sure I'll be able to make it"

"And why not?"

He paused "well for one thing women folk make me nervous. Sashaying and a twitching around, and you never know what they're thinking!"

"Uh-huh"

"But you're different" he added quickly "I'm pretty much at ease around you."

Her right eyebrow arched with his response "are you trying to say I'm not lady-like?"

Ron began to laugh before realizing a moment later that she was serious. "No that's not what I'm saying at all" he coughed.

"I'm just saying that, well with other gals I, its just that we….I'm going to stop talking now."

"Good idea" she remarked "now what's the real reason you don't want to go the social? In fact you haven't been in town since the incident."

"I just haven't had the need to go back that's all. When did not going into town become a crime?"

"Do as you want, but I will get to the bottom of the mystery that is Ron Stoppable. I'll figure you out sooner or later just see if I don't." she rose brushing the leaves and grass off her dress. "Now come on I want to show you something before it gets dark."

"Show me what?"

"A secret for a secret that was our deal remember. You showed me your secret napping space so I'll show you another secret place."

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

"Let's race" Kim said.

It had started with a simple suggestion that turned into a full sprint along the prairie. For a mile or more they galloped along, neck to neck and nose to nose, but suddenly Kim started to pull ahead.

"You better be trying your hardest" she cried out over her shoulders.

As she slowly pulled away from him it occurred to him that he was. Letting her win was the last thing on his mind, he urged his horse on to no avail.

But Kim rode superbly.

He had known she was good but now he realized she was exceptional. It was another item for him to add to the list of things about her that impressed him. She was strong/pig headed, yes. Impulsive, yes…..Much more independent than most women, yes.

_All those things make me like her even more……..like? _

They galloped for a few more miles before coming up to a lone cabin at the base of the snow capped Bluff Mountains.

"You know I let you win right, it's my duty as a man to be generous with the fairer sex."

She dismounted "Let it be known that your generosity is very much appreciated."

"Honestly though you're a horseman to the manner born. You could probably race horses"

"You sound shocked"

"You're right as a trivet. I should have known better" Ron studied the log cabin "there were settles out here?"

"Outlaws or fugitives probably, but they and any of the Natives who used to live around here departed long ago."

"This used to be some sort of hide out?"

"And then some" she said as he followed her into the cabin. She walked into the one room in the cabin and threw open a closet door.

"Watch your step" she told him as she climbed down a passage with a few sandstone steps.

Ron whistled "you're just full of surprises ain't you?"

"Now that's a surefire case of a pot calling a kettle black. There's a network of caves here that were most likely used by the Pueblo tribe. The cabin was probably built by fugitives who found an opening to this cave…."

A loud bang cut Kim off mid-sentence, a thin trail of dark smoke appeared from another section of the cave. Before either of them could say a word Wade suddenly stumbled into their line of sight.

"Laws that was loud!"

"Wade, are you alright?"

He began to cough profusely "Not to worry I'm as fine as cream gravy."

Ron stepped up to them "howdy, it was Wa…..Mister Load wasn't it?

Wade shot a look at Kim "uh Kim"

"I invited him."

Wade shrugged "that's fine by me, but call me Wade. Come on Kim I've got some items to show you."

They moved into an even larger section of the cave that to Ron's confusion was surprisingly well let.

Wade spread his arms wide "welcome to my laboratory."

Ron's head swiveled from left to right in amazement. He had seen quite a few things in his life but never a laboratory. There were dozens of tables with containers filled with God knows what, large amounts of paper on the walls with scribbling he didn't understand, a few objects made of iron with wires running through them.

"Where, in tarnation is that light coming from?"

"Oh there's an arc lamp in the far corner" Kim answered.

"I see" he replied "actually I don't see; I'm as stumped as a dead tree. How in the world is it doing what its doing?"

Wade tugged lightly on his suspenders "it's simple really as long as you have a generator or "self excited dynamo" as they say back in the East. You see in essence, two carbon rods connected to a current limited source are brought together and then drawn apart. As the carbons separate, a hot ionized path is created between them; which is the arc…now that continues to conduct after the carbons have been separated. This arc burns at thousands of degrees and heats the ends of the carbons to incandescence. Most of the light comes from the tips of the carbons, not the arc itself. As the carbons burn down they need to be constantly adjusted to maintain the proper spacing so that the arc does not go out…..are you following so far?"

Ron stared at the small genius with rapt fascination "my goodness you have fancy vocabulary" he exclaimed. He then turned to explore the rest of the laboratory like a child in toy story.

"Again Kim I must say again your friend is quite "interesting."

"Eh he's harmless" she paused "most of the time anyway. So what do you have for me Wade?"

He ushered her towards one of the tables "here's something new" he handed her a small wooden object that contained a lever, bowstring and a clamp at the very bottom.

"It's a miniature repeating crossbow. You can attach it to you forearm"

Kim placed her arm out an attached the weapon against the back of her wrist.

"It can fit into any saddle bag and if you can keep your arm straight. You can get a few pretty accurate shots off. You can load about twenty arrows in there, and it's possible that you can fire off a dozen of them in fifteen seconds. Not that you would need to anyway."

"And why is that?"

"I'm sure you notice that those arrows are too small to be lethal. But the grand thing about them is that they happen to be laced with a little tinkering I've done with chloral hydrate. It'll knock your target out cold in seconds then you can drag him off to the hoosegow if you'll feel up to it."

She studied the latest piece of her arsenal "Dreadfully impressive as always Wade. You've always been one I can tie to."

Ron abruptly returned with one of the blueprints he torn from the wall "What's this here box contraception with wheels? It's some fancy kind of carriage right."

"Uh that's actually in the planning stages; it's a transportation device, sans the horses."

"No horses?"

"Trains don't need horses" Wade said.

"Right……so it's a mini train, Wade you're an ace-high thinker. A mini train, these are strange times we live in."

"It's not a train….." Wade attempted to explain further but Ron was already moving on to the other tables.

"Moving on" Wade pointed out a few more objects to Kim on the table "The heel of that boot has a hidden compartment.

"Hey Wade how do you afford all these fancy smart things?"

Wade rolled his eyes.

"Wade's father happens to be a gold baron. He lucked out and staked the claim of a big gold mine in the rush of 49."

"Anyway Kim, this thin wire here might have a variety of uses….."

Ron held a beaker high into the air "Hey what's this it smells like gunpowder?"

"That's what I was working on before the two of you showed up. It's smokeless gun powder"

A look of shock registered on Ron's face and the beaker slipped from his hand spilling to the floor.

"Dang" he dropped to floor to gather up the powder with his hands "I didn't mean, I mean I…..did you say smokeless gunpowder?"

Wade sighed in exasperation "Yes indeed I did."

"Does that mean what I think it means?"

"Why-yes unlike the older form of gunpowder, if used in firearms and artillery this will produce negligible smoke when fired."

"My goodness! Do you know what this means?"

"I believe I just explained what this means"

"Yes, you're right you did explain what this means, but I'm not sure you understand what this _really_ means" he continued to scoop up the powder "smokeless gunpowder that'll change everything" he said to himself.

Wade turned to Kim "is he always this….."

"Child-like?" She fell silent in reflection "most of time"

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

**White Cloud Kansas:**

The pale outlaw ran a nail file across her fingertips as she gazed out of a second story window. She was about to pull away from the window when something caught her attention.

A suspicious looking wagon stopped before the building she was in. A rifle in hand the driver jumped from the front seat and stepped towards the back of the wagon. A moment later a second man exited the building and joined the driver. Together they dragged more than a dozen young women from the back of the wagon at gunpoint. Fear and apprehension could be found on each woman's face as they clung to one another and cowered on the ground. The two men then marched the women into building.

Her face expressionless the raven haired outlaw looped a thumb into the gun belt around her lean waist. Sighing she tucked the nail file into her vest and closed the window by letting the curtain fall back into place.

"New recruits"

She reached up and adjusted the black wide rimmed Stetson that completed her attire and turned toward the voice.

The statement had come from a tall and big man with thick auburn hair that had been doused with pomade. He sported a trimmed but full moustache, a fancy suit and diamond stickpin glittering in his lapel.

"You know Miss Go City bandit….you could be my top girl, the Madame I've been looking for to whip this place into shape."

She flashed a smile "I'd rather drink lye Nolan"

Nolan grinned "that's what I need, an uppity gal like you will really class up the joint."

She scanned Nolan's office "I'm getting worried Nolan"

"Worried about what? You've done a bang-up job robbing and vandalizing my partners for me. No one will ever think a woman is behind these thefts."

"I'm not worried about that. There's talk about the local law coming down on you for some of the girls that have been disappearing."

Nolan plopped himself down on the seat behind his desk. He drew a bottle of whiskey and two glasses from the top drawer. He poured himself a glass and offered some to the female bandit.

"Two fingers full" she told him. He poured her drink and handed it to her.

His sighed in satisfaction after a good long sip "they can't touch me"

"The cock of the walk around town, are you?"

"Yes I am. For one thing my family has been running this gentleman's house for three generations.

"Family values are always important"

He ignored her and continued "This manor house was one of the first buildings up after the town was founded. There wouldn't be a town here without the help of this very house. This town owes me and this house."

"That doesn't seem like enough to keep you from dancing a necktie jig."

"I wasn't done; second of all I'm a fledging member of Ángeles Caídos."

She scoffed "they don't exist….do they….I've heard some things."

He laughed "who do you think you've been robbing?"

The bandit quickly drained her glass.

"Does that make you more worrisome?"

"Not all, actually I'm more worried that you'll offer me more of that cheap watered down tonsil paint."

He roared with laughter "Sugar britches I love you, you sure beat those ten cent wastes down stairs. Makes me see females in a new light, I used to believe that if it wasn't for babies you'd all be close to worthless."

"Wait a minute if you're a member Ángeles Caídos, why are you telling me about it?"

He took another sip "Obviously I'm trying to make a mash on you darling. Are you impressed yet?"

She coughed "as fond as I am of the pleasures of your company. Do you have any thing new for me?"

"As you know men love to talk in there sleep which makes brothels a deep well of information. You ever hear of John P. Walton?"

"The steel tycoon" she replied her interest waning.

"Yes ma'am seems like his daughter is out in the world all by her lonesome. Well not exactly by her lonesome, she's been escorted by a greenhorn Deputy Marshal and his mother."

"Really?" she asked suddenly showing more interest in the conversation "Walton's one powerfully rich man."

"And I'm sure he'd pay through the nose to see to it that his little lady gets safe passage for her tour through the west."

The dark haired beauty paced back in forth in the room "That's a genuine fact for sure."

"You just bring that prized filly to me. I'll set you up with a hiding place and I'll handle the dealings with the Walton family."

"I'll do it. And I'll do it alone."

"Alone?"

"Its quiet, kidnappings need to be discreet. And I don't need any dead weight holding me back." Suddenly she took a seat on the edge of Nolan's desk.

"Lady, if you want to be taking seriously as an outlaw you best wear a bigger shirt. You're chest jiggles like two badgers in a laundry sack."

She smiled brightly "Nolan I know you like to get as soaked as the next man. But stop beating on these girls. If the lawdogs raid this place I'd hate it if my future plans were to go up the spout because you needed to feel like a big man."

Nolan clucked loudly "what I find rich is that you fail to realize that these girls are my property. Just like this house is my property, this desk is my property, that bottle of whiskey is my property. I will do with my property as I choose. Now I feel, it is in your best interest to stop shooting your mouth and get started on your work."

"Understood, do you know the location of our little princess?"

"Last known whereabouts of her party was in Cala Del Castor a small town near the border of Texas and the Indian territory. Can you track them down?"

"I'll try; the nearest railroad station is a few days away. I'll need a fast horse."

"You can get one in the stable I own in town."

"I'll take it."

"Good, just bring up my name and you'll get a fair price."

"You seem to be confused I said I'll take it, not that I'd buy it"

Before he could react, she grabbed him by the back of the head and banged his head against the desk.

"Nolan I don't like how you operate but worst of all you're a blabber mouth. So consider out partnership terminated."

"Oh god!" Nolan clutched his bloody nose as he slid off his chair onto the floor.

"With three generations of sin and vice running through your veins I'm surprised there is any room for blood"

She kicked him in the bread basket "no come on don't take on so. I thought you'd appreciate the irony of being beaten by a woman."

A well place kick knocked Nolan unconscious. "Ok Nolan I know you don't trust banks, so where do you keep your money?"

During her initial survey of the office she had noticed another door in the room beside the exit.

"Let's see what's behind door number two"

On the first floor the sound of Nolan's body hitting the ground had not fallen on deaf ears.

The wagon driver who had herded the young women in at rifle point called out for his boss. Upon getting no reply he gathered up Nolan's two remaining employees on the premise and together they sprinted towards the office.

"Boss!" they shouted when they saw Nolan on a crumpled heap on the floor. "Who did it to you? Was it that woman? Where is she?"

"Look over the there!"

Every head turned towards the other door in the room and not one of them was lost on the fact that it had been opened a crack.

They rushed towards the door and threw it open.

Unfortunately there were two peculiar things about Nolan; he did not trust banks and he was also not above booby trapping the room where he kept his money.

Huddled closely together in the doorway they stared down the barrel of the shotgun before them that was mounted on a tripod; the three men then noticed the tripwire running from the door to the trigger. Before they could utter a sound hot lead ripped through their body from the front to the back.

What, Nolan's men had also failed to see were the two gloved hands hanging from the windowsill. After the roar of the shotgun the pale bandit pulled herself up and back into the Nolan's office.

She shook her head "how tragic, that's a real fine mess you boys have gotten yourselves into. Always check for traps fellas, men like your boss love to hang on to their money."

Five minutes later the painted ladies under Nolan's "care" scrambled onto the first floor lobby and watched in shock as an open safe rolled down the stairs spilling large amounts of money from its interior.

"Listen up gals" the green eyed thief shouted from the top of the stairs "I can't tell you to go back to your families because if they cared any, they would have been here fighting for you. But this here money smells too much like Nolan and I don't want nothing to do with it. So take your fill and chuck out of this town. Jump on a stagecoach heading east; get yourselves a nice frilly dress, and find a fancy dandy to hold your hand."

She stopped and took a long swig from Nolan's bottle of whiskey. When she was done her lips smacked in satisfaction, after that she stuffed a handkerchief into the bottle leaving a tiny bit hanging out of the mouth.

"Oh and ladies I'd move quickly" She lit a match and ignited the dry end of the handkerchief. Smiling she tossed the half full bottle over her head "because this place is going to start heating up real soon."

Nolan's head bobbed up and down as he came out of the fog of unconsciousness. He moaned out loud and was surprised to find that he couldn't move.

"Awake are you?"

His senses recovered Nolan stared out into the face of the town sheriff. He soon discovered that his body was tied to a street post.

"What, where am I?"

"As far as I can see somebody gave me a gift, wrapped it up all special like as well."

It occurred to Nolan than that his money was back at home unprotected.

"Let me down. I need to get back to the manor house!"

"I don't think you need to worry your little head about that" The sheriff pointed to the massive cloud of smoke that hung in the night sky.

"What, where's the fire brigade, why aren't they trying to put out the fire?" Nolan cried frantically.

"The thing about that Nolan is that the town council agreed that since it was just about out of the town limits none of the other buildings were in danger. And they also agreed that we were all better off if it burned down."

"What, why?"

"The town's tired of you Nolan. Now we have the opportunity to get rid of you."

"You dirty scoundrel! Do you know how much I've done for this town?"

"Of course" the sheriff lit a cigar "that's why you'll get a decent meal before we hang you."

"You dirty son of….." he stopped when a horse and rider slowly wandered by.

The sheriff tilted his hat "ma'am"

"Sheriff"

The riders face was all too familiar to Nolan.

Nolan struggled against his restraints "STOP HER, STOP THAT WOMAN. SHE STARTED THAT FIRE"

"God bless her then, probably to stop you from striking her."

"NO SHE'S A CRIMINAL; SHE'S A THIEF, A THIEF! THAT'S MY HORSE SHE"S GOT."

"Quit yer bellyaching, you're keeping good folk from their sleep" The sheriff took a puff of his cigar and started past the post "Now you stay put Nolan I'll see you in the morning."

"NO LET ME DOWN, TURN AROUND ARREST THAT WOMAN. SHE BURNED MY LEGACY!"

The pale raven haired thief smirked as she rode towards the town entrance. That bridge significantly burned, it was time to move on to greener and more lucrative pastures.

"DAMMIT STOP HER. **SHE**'S THE **GO** CITY BANDIT. DO YOU HEAR ME;** SHE**'S THE **GO** CITY BANDIT!"

She stopped just before the town entrance. "I reckon that's not too bad"

With that she rode on.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

It was a cloudless Saturday afternoon and Middlewood was in a festive mood, for the box social was being held just outside of the church. Lanterns hung from ropes and streamers dangled from the rooftops.

Children ran around playfully as their parents sipped on some punch. The band which consisted of a guitar player, fiddler and accordion player played a high energy tune to get people dancing.

"Over here"

Ron had just stepped into the vicinity of the fiesta when Bo Taggart and Stanley Colbert called Ron over. He still wasn't sure about joining the event. But when he learned that the rest of the brand was going to be there, a sign of healing after the loss of Kip and Silias, he decided that being at the party was the right thing to do even if he didn't hang around for long.

Bo patted him on the shoulder hard "what are you doing just standing around looking like a lonesome hound dog?"

"I'm just dropping by for a spell. Maybe teach some of you how to do a proper jig."

"Of course" Stanley replied as a group of children brushed past them "Y'know after what happened with those rustlers, seeing these little younglings run around kind of makes a man want to settle down."

"Really?" Ron replied as he scanned the partygoers.

"Don't get me wrong I enjoy the high lonesome. But sometimes when you get to thinking about it…You know Ronald it might be time you told the young lady how you feel."

"How I feel about what?" Ron said his attention partially elsewhere.

"Boy, I think its time you throw a loop around that mare and bring her in."

Bo shook his head "I reckon he can't do anything until he's sure the mare is his to rope."

"Not a problem, there's only one rooster here to rule the roost."

"Fellas, what are you talking about? I'm at sea here"

Bo rolled his eyes "Mankey ain't here boy. He won't make it to the party; he came down with a chill."

"Oh" Ron looked back and forth between both men "and…."

Bo offered Stanley a weary look "the boy's a lost cause."

"Mister Cooley"

Ron turned to see Tara and Bonnie walk straight up to him.

"Luckily there seems to be more then one hen in the hen house" Bo and Stanley chuckled to themselves as they sidled away from the scene.

Ron took his hat off.

Tara smiled brightly "Put your hat back on Cooley or you might find yourself sick in the morning."

"Yes ma'am"

Tara continued to smile but Bonnie carried a tortured look on her face. As if just being in Ron's presence caused her tremendous pain.

"You haven't been in town much; I thought you may have gotten hurt."

He ran his hands across the back of his head "Far from it ma'am. I've just been working a bit more at the Circle C"

"So you have been well?"

"That's right ma'am"

"You can stop calling me ma'am"

"Yes ma'am I mean….I…" he fumbled with the rest of his words.

She giggled softly

"So you're enjoying yourself?" He managed to blurt out.

Bonnie leaned over and whispered something in Tara's ear. Ron watched in bemusement as Tara nodded to herself, and then drew in a deep breath.

"I hope this does not sound too brazen, but I'd enjoy it more if you asked me to danc….."

"Ron! You made it!'

Tara was too stunned to say anything as Kim and Monique cut in between her and Ron.

"I'm not aimin to stay long; I'm just going to look around…dance a little I figure." Ron told Kim

"Come on now. You act like you're afraid of the town."

His shoulders slumped "I just don't want people looking at me different, that's all"

"You had a gunfight in the middle of the street. You shot a few rustlers and survived, of course people are going to look at you a little differently"

"Do you?" he asked timidly.

"Well I…..if you don't want people to see you differently then you should dance like everyone else" She grabbed his right hand "so let's dance then"

"That's fine with me but..."

"Ahem" Bonnie cleared her throat interrupting Kim and Ron's back and forth "we're still here"

She elbowed Tara in the rib "well?"

"Oh yes Miss Strong you were saying something?"

"I…." The shock on her face still visible Tara curtseyed gracefully "I'm sorry Mister Cooley I recollect that I have business elsewhere, if you'll please excuse me" She then shuffled away.

Bonnie groaned aloud, before returning to Ron "I was wondering, will the Stranger be showing up today?"

Through the corner of his eyes Ron could see Kim bristle and it brought a grin to his face.

"I haven't had the chance to properly reward him yet" Bonnie said slyly

"He might be here right now."

"Really?" She brightened.

"Or not" he chortled.

Bonnie scoffed "unfortunately you're the only who has talked to the Stranger, if it wasn't for that I wouldn't even grace you with my presence." She then haughtily walked off.

"Isn't she a ray of sunshine?" Monique quipped.

Ron was about to agree when a woman bumped into him "Excuse me ma'am"

"Oh" the much older woman blushed "you're that shootist everyone's gabbing about"

"Um"

"You have freckles, and sandy hair. I like that in a man."

Ron almost chocked on his own breath "so do I" he joked.

She looked him up and down with fascination "have you killed many men?"

"Uh, only when I had too ma'am"

"Oh yes of course, still it must be rough for you, living on the edge of life and death all the time."

Kim stepped up beside Ron "Excuse us _Missus_ Hattiesburg we were in the middle of a conversation."

The air became thick with tension as Kim stared Missus Hattiesburg down. Ron eyes flickered from one to the other.

Eventually Missus Hattiesburg stuck her nose up in the air, turned on her heels and dashed off.

"Can you believe that, and she's a married woman."

"That sure was peculiar" Ron stated

"Goodness child, I really enjoyed that aggressive display. No one can say you don't know how to mark your territory."

Kim was set to reply to Monique's quip when she noticed a wave of young women gathering towards the wooden stage.

"Looks like the bidding is about to start" she said sadly.

"Well let's go then" Monique grabbed her by the arm "just because Josh isn't here doesn't mean you can't participate. The money will help rebuild the school."

"I reckon you've got a point" Kim said as Monique dragged her away "Ron you just enjoy yourself, and don't talk to anyone suspicious."

"You know what that means right? Don't start wagging your tongue around other women while she's gone" Monique shouted over her shoulder.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

A box social was a get-together that involved the auctioning off of boxed lunches prepared by the women. A potential sweetheart might let her man of choice know how she had decorated the box she prepared so that he would try harder to be the one to successfully buy it at auction. This was a way for young women to show off their meal-making skills. He who bought the lunch would share the meal with the one who prepared it.

"I feel sorry for the man that'll have to eat Kim's lunch. Cooking is not one of her strengths."

Old man Lunsford suddenly appeared beside Ron "Why don't you make a bid yourself?"

Ron clutched his chest "Sweet Moses old man I nearly jumped out of my boots"

"So are you going bid?"

"I don't reckon I have a right too."

"No offense son but you ain't got a lick of sense, this is as good an opportunity as any to hook her, and reel her in as your own. Win her over is what I'm saying boy."

Ron swallowed a mouthful of punch "Old man it would probably be easier for me to reach up into the sky and grab a handful of stars."

A man stepped up on the platform and announced that the biddings would begin. The boxes flew by, as most of the gentlemen in the crowd there knew in advance how to identify the box of the girl they wanted to bid on.

Bonnie's box unsurprisingly enough held the highest bid of the day so far, with a winning bid of seventy five dollars.

The next box opened its bid at one dollar, but there came nary a peep from the single men in the audience.

The confused auctioneer searched the silent crowd "This bid is starting at one dollar. Anyone; one dollar!"

Ron wondered why no one was bidding. He looked in Kim's direction on stage and noticed that she was squirming in her skin.

_It couldn't be_

"That's Kim's lunch box!"

"Makes sense" Lunsford announced as he downed a shot of bourbon.

"What do you mean? I understand Josh is not here to bid for her, but she should be getting just as much bids as Miss Rockwaller, maybe even more."

"The men here are scared."

"Scared of what?"

"In plain language they're scared of the blond herd bull sniffing around that red headed heifer, no offense to the young lady of course."

"What? That makes no sense, Mankey is a nice fellow, by no means is he a herd bull and I know for sure he's not blond…..Ohhhhh"

About that time Ron noticed the looks he was getting from the other men in the crowd. Most took a quick gander at him and quickly turned away.

"They're scared of me?"

"Looks like it."

Thinking quickly Ron bolted to the stage, once there he bumped the auctioneer to the side "folks, contrary to popular belief I am not sparking Kim Possible."

"Thank you for that important news" the frustrated auctioneer declared "once again the bidding starts at one dollar."

Murmurs ran through the men huddled before the stage.

_"Hell I don't know, they shore spend a mess load of time together."_

_"I'd much rather go on without windows in my noggin."_

_"Fast as chained lightning they say."_

_"Man I ain't no fool, he called her by her first name, real familiar like."_

_"I hear her cooking is terrible anyway."_

_"A might too uppity for my taste, you know she rides a horse like a man."_

Ron slapped his forehead. If things carried along like this Kim wouldn't get a single bid. From the back of the crowd he saw Bonnie sporting a Texas sized grin.

He had to do something.

"Last chance the bid is at…"

"One hundred dollars!" Ron screamed

Silence

"Sold to Ronald Cooley……..next box!"

Fifteen minutes later the two sat quietly on a wooden bench as Ron struggled through the contents of Kim's lunch.

"So how is it?"

He blinked in response.

"Be honest."

"I've eaten worse."

"Oh, my apologies."

He swallowed a mouthful and held in a grimace "it's alright."

"By the way…Do you have a hundred dollars?"

"No"

"So why did you bid that much?"

"Most of the time there's no sense in trying to understand the things I do. It's best to just see where the river takes you….besides don't you think you're worth at least a hundred dollars?"

"I wasn't up for bid, my food was."

Ron looked down at the lunch box "good point, now that you mention it, I may have overpaid by a hundred dollars."

Kim sighed "you desperately need to learn how to quit while you're ahead."

"What?"

"Nothing…..How will you get the money?"

"Don't know"

"Well, anyway….thank you" she said softly

"No problem" he said before placing his fork down "do you want to go to the café and get something to eat."

She smiled "I sure would, and I'll buy."

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

The Next Day:

The patrons of the dusty saloon roared with laughter as Ron folded on another winning hand.

A man named Everett hooted loudly "Are you sure this is the game you want to play _Scarecrow_?"

"I'm just being cautious" Ron sighed.

Everett howled "The big bad gunman is cautious; well cautious players are the best kind"

"I'm opening with twenty five dollars now are you in?"

Ron took a moment to think this over "ok but, do you mind if I put a little more on the table."

"Fine with me"

The cards were dealt around the table and the betting became quick and brisk until the pot was over two hundred dollars.

"That's it I'm tired of playing around with you greenhorns, I'm betting one hundred dollars. It's going to cost yall to see my hand."

A chorus of "too rich for my blood" went around the table until Ron and Everett were the only two players left.

Ron looked at his cards and then he looked across the table "I'll see your hundred and raise another."

"What?" Everett exclaimed "what kind of cards are you holding?"

A confident small crept over Ron's face "you'll have to pay to see them."

"He's bluffing, he's bluffing I knows it" said one man

"Hold on now this is the same fella who folded on a flush" said another.

"That's right" Everett said aloud

Ron's grin spread from ear to ear.

"Fine take the pot, I fold." Everett turned his cards over "I had four of a kind, what did you have."

Ron let out a relieved sigh "I had two tens, and two threes."

For moment Everett's face was clouded with anger but then unexpectedly he burst out into laughter, and the rest of the saloon followed suit.

Ron reeled in the pot. _That takes care of the auction bill. That's one less thing to worry about_.

During the merriment someone tapped him on the shoulder. "Hold you horses KP I'll be with you in a moment."

He jumped out of his chair.

"What are you doing here?" He exclaimed "this is the roughest saloon in town."

"First of all I followed you; second of all I'm a grown woman I can go wherever I want."

"Yes you are a woman, the only woman here if you haven't noticed the stares."

"You know, they may just be admiring my sense of fashion." Her eyes narrowed as she stared at him "so you're a gambler as well."

"No, no…yes…at least I'm not a sneak."

"That's arguable."

"Ok, I've played a hand or two or three, and only when I had no other options for money."

He felt another tap on the shoulder "Excuse me good fellow but do you happen to be the notorious gun handler known as the Scarecrow."

"Look there's no need to get on the peck I swear I'm not much of a gambling man, gambling can get too heated b…."Ron ceased apologizing to Kim and turned towards the man behind him "And uh who might you be?"

The Easterner grabbed Ron's hand and shook it vigorously "Jimmy Blamhammer writer extraordinaire at your service."

"Nice to meet you sir"

"Scarecrow I have the offer of a lifetime for you. You're a legend in the making and I would like to pen a book about your exploits."

"Really? What for?" Ron inquired.

Enthused Blamhammer grabbed Ron by the shoulder and pulled him into a side by side embrace "What for? My good man shooting affrays are always of interest. Why most men can hit the board side of a barn if they're lucky. Exceptional gunmen are a rare breed; men who can coolly strike down another in the blink of eye, these men garner just fame. Their names are spoken in every saloon in the west and every parlor in the East. What better tales are discussed amongst all manner of men then the violent deeds of those who wield six shooters? Scarecrow, readers all over the nation would love to hear the story of an infamous gunman like…..."

Ron broke out of the embrace "not interested."

"What?"

"I'm surprised" Kim announced.

"Hey I'd love to have a book written about me, even if it's written in that crazy ye olde English language that I don't understand. But I want nothing to do with it…. if it's written about…..Scarecrow."

"Well then what have you done that's noteworthy, besides gun fighting?"

"I….I…..I can bake a pretty darn good peach cobbler."

Blamhammer frowned "I'm not sure that will make for good reading. In fact I doubt readers would care much about your peach cobbler."

Kim took notice of the sadness in Ron's face.

"Mr. Blamhammer….you sure know how to cut a man deep" he took Kim by the hand and led her towards the exit. "I'm sorry but I'm not interested in the book."

"I should warn you Scarecrow, you might not want to head towards that door so quickly. I'm not the only who's looking for you today."

Ron stopped in his tracks "what are you saying?"

When Felix walked into the saloon, one could have heard a pin drop, even though the place was filled with hardened westerners. Not a word was spoken as Felix made his way towards the end of the bar and ordered a drink, and all the time he kept his eyes squarely on Ron.

"What's on your mind friend?" Ron asked.

Felix drained his glass "I'm here to kill you."

Silence

"You certainly don't beat around the bush. Now why would you want to kill me?"

Felix laughed "You don't remember me ¡Oh, Qué Bíen! My name is Felix Renton."

"Doesn't ring a bell"

Felix ran his forefinger and his thumb across his forehead "A few years ago you killed a friend of mine. You shot me too, but you let me live, you told me find you again. Well I've found you again and I'm going to kill you."

Ron bit down on his bottom lip.

"Remember me now amigo?"

"Excuse me but what right do you have to barge in here and demand….."

"Just a minute a minute KP, Renton I remember you, but you don't want to fight me."

"I don't? That's news to me."

"You can't beat me I'm faster than you. "

"I'm not too sure about that, but I aim to find out."

"Then you're aimin to feed worms."

'I'm not in the mood for a mess of jawin, I let my bullets do the talking for me….."

"WHAT IS WRONG WITH YOU TWO!"

Kim's excessively loud shout immediately grabbed the attention of everyone in the room.

"Are you not aware how childish your "tough hombre" antics are? This is not a game, do you realize that you are talking about killing each other?"

Felix glowered at Kim "Didn't your mother teach you not to stick your nose in other peoples business?"

"I'm going to ignore that but I'll ask you to keep your rudeness to yourself."

Ron attempted to suppress a smile but failed miserable. He inhaled and exhaled "Renton, this may be hard to believe but I…..I consider myself retired from the hook and draw lifestyle."

Felix slapped his knee and threw his head back in laughter "Is that a bluff or do you mean to play for real?"

Ron ran a hand down the back of his neck "Yes I'm serious I'm retired."

"Yea?" Felix laughed.

"Yea"

"Ok" Swiftly Felix reached for his holster and Ron instinctively did the same. In a matter of seconds they both had their hands on the butts of their colts.

Felix smiled "retired are you?"

Kim placed a hand on Ron's arm when she saw the flash of pain on his face

"Alright" he said "I know for sure that I can keep myself from drawing on you."

Felix pulled his colt from his holster and pointed it at Ron "then I'll just have to shoot you down."

"If you're ready to kill an unarmed man in cold blood, go right ahead."

Felix thumbed back the hammer "Scarecrow I think you've gone yeller on me, maybe I should shoot you right now and listen to you cry."

"Go ahead, if you've got it in you. Just so you know I won't draw."

As Felix seemed to reflect on the situation Kim stepped in between Ron and his Colt.

Starring into his eyes she said "you'll have to shoot me down first, if you want to get to him."

"Hiding behind a woman" Felix holstered his weapon and turned towards the bar with his back to Ron "I'm going to be generous I'll give you a day to wash that yellow streak off of your back Scarecrow, and come face me in the street like a man. Rest assured if you don't find me I'll come find you."

Kim pulled at Ron's sleeve "let's go."

As they walked away Felix spoke up again "Scarecrow, if the stories about you are true, if you are what some say you are, then you should know exactly what this is about. You owe me."

He looked over his shoulder and stared into Ron's eyes "Don't disappoint me now…..¡Hasta luego"

When Kim and Ron walked out the door, Blamhammer scribbled furiously on a notepad "'Heavens that was EPIC!"

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

Riding back home Ron couldn't hide the apprehensive look on his face "What's the matter?"

"Nothing is the matter"

"There is a disquieted air about you."

"Not knowing what disquieted means I'll have to take your word for it."

"Its means you are as jittery as a jack rabbit right now.'

He avoided her gaze "Ah, you might be on to something."

"Are you worried that people are going to say you backed down?"

"Heck no I'm alive aren't I?"

"About Renton, did you really……?"

"I did" he said quickly "I did."

"If you don't mind me asking, how, how did it feel?"

"I…..It's not a feeling I fully understand myself so I can't really describe it….besides it's not good to dwell on that for too long or you're liable to drive yourself crazy. Most of the time its best to focus on one thing, you got him before he got you."

"Things just get more and more curious with you around" Kim muttered.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

Through a cabin window Veronica watched the glare of the setting sun streaking through the far end of the horizon. She tried to clear her vision, but a strange haze remained in the air.

"Hello the cabin!"

Hearing a familiar voice, a blanket covering her shoulders Veronica rushed out the door.

"Ah Marshal you've returned"

Wil Du slowly rode into camp and stopped his horse "you shouldn't be up."

She coughed "Oh I know I should be resting, and I hate to say it but I grew a bit bored. Jenkins is asleep inside; Missus Director and Mister Beechum are each surveying the land. I was just a bit lonely."

"Lonely?"

"I know it sounds childish……"

Will chuckled "Sometimes women can be as silly as five year olds. I got the medicine you needed from town."

He pulled a small paper bag from his inner vest and tossed it to her.

"Thank you" She coughed again and then wiped her mouth with the back of her hand "I….I was just enjoying the sunset. It's a grand event isn't it…..the sun setting."

"Yes I reckon it is grand for something that happens, just about everyday"

Veronica shoulders slumped and her head lowered "I apologize"

"Excuse me?"

"I know how much you are dedicated to you duty so I apologize for getting sick and slowing us down. I know how important this assignment is to you" she lifted her head and stared at him defiantly "but that does not justify your snide comments and your overall rude behavior towards me."

Finding himself momentarily tongue tied Will Du sat motionless on his horse "Fair enough"

He rode out of the camp and returned pulling a horse by the reins "get on the horse."

"I, I don't understand."

He sighed "just hop on."

They rode along together until Will drew rein at a shallow rise "if you look to the east you can just see the Flatland Peaks. If you think a sunset is grand trying seeing it from here."

Veronica stared out at the vast land and was rendered speechless by the beauty of the far blue, mountains and the golden light peeking from behind them.

"How lovely" she exclaimed

"It almost makes you forget what the world is really like……almost. Miss Walton don't worry about slowing us down, I'm fairly sure we've gotten away from Sheriff Towers, no one knows we are here, so you can just….."

She touched him lightly on the arm which unbeknownst to her practically startled him "Apology accepted" she said.

"I wasn't, that is to say that…..no harm done then."

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

Resting beneath a cottonwood, his hands folded underneath his head Ron stared up at the legion of stars that filled the sky. Quietly he marveled at the star-lit display.

"Aquene used to tell me about this warrior chief who said "I'm a person who has already accepted death, one who lives day after day with death by his side."

Ron's eyes fell on an owl at the very tip of the cotton wood whose hooting eclipsed the loud lapping of Cotton Creek.

"That does sound like some balderdash that Aquene would spew. I've got a better saying, you live by the gun and you die by the next person's gun."

"A master of the English language is what you are Murdoch. Shakespeare should be envious……..I don't know Murdoch I might feel worse if I win than if I lose."

"If you lose your dead…. You win you're alive, plain and simple."

"Not sure if I want…need to win this time."

Ron heard a rider approaching and his hand flew to his colt "who's there?"

"Who do you think?"

The rider approached and Ron's eyes confirmed what his ears had heard. "Don't you know it's dangerous for a woman to be on her own this far from town at night" he declared, knowing full well that she was the last person who needed the lecture. .

She noticed the hand on his colt "it seems to me that it's dangerous for men as well."

The hooting owl took off into the night sky, leaving a few falling leaves in its wake.

She dismounted "its getting really late, don't you think it's time for you to turn in."

Ron slowly sat up "you were worried about me?"

"Well of course" she sat down beside him "but I guess my worries are unfounded, I mean it's not like you have someone out there trying to kill or anything."

"You won't need to worry about him sneaking up on me KP because I'm going to fight him."

"What the devil for?"

"He called me out for one thing."

"Oh I see, of course it makes sense. Will you be measuring the size of your _guns_ before you get down to the actual killing."

"You've got a tongue as sharp as a blade, sticks in my craw like a pincushion."

"So what now, you teach him what happens when you grab a wolf by the tail. A matter of pride, of honor…"

"You weren't this biting about Dub Wilson."

"Dub Wilson kidnapped and threatened to kill my mother. His brother held the entire town hostage. Dub Wilson backed you up into a corner where you had no choice but to act. Felix Renton doesn't seem at all to be the same type of character as Dub Wilson. You can see it in his face."

"I owe it to him."

Her eyebrow arched "you owe it to him to try and kill him?"

"I owe him" he repeated. "I'm going to go into town and ask him for a week. At the end of that week I'm going to brace him, and that's all there is to it."

His train of thoughts was derailed when Kim suddenly tackled and pinned him to the ground.

"What the heck?"

Even in the dimly lit darkness his hazel eyes found hers.

"You really want this foolishness to happen don't you, last man standing and all that."

Abashed, Ron sighed "I wish I could make you understand."

He reached up and gently ran his finger from her cheek to ear.

"Why did you do that?" she asked.

He shrugged "I don't know….. It actually sort of, did itself."

She sucked in her bottom lip "…you can do it again….if you want."

Ron stared past her face, into the heavens. A shooting star streaked across the sky. He vaguely recalled that certain Indian tribes considered this to be a sign of good luck.

"Truth is I think it took all the gumption I had, just to do that."

Kim slowly pulled herself off his body and sat beside him "you're an odd duck Ron Stoppable. Who are you really?"

He exhaled "No one in particular."

* * *

A/N Ok there you go...so what's to talk about. Not much action in this chapter unless you count the lovey dovey action.

I liked the way Wade's laboratory worked out. BTW if anyone has any ideas for inventions I'd be happy to hear them.

Felix's arrival to Middlewood. I kind of wanted it to be surprising but maybe it came out a little too low key

What else...what else...oh yeah Shego! What do you think about her entrance to this tale, personally I see it as a hit or miss

So feedback folks, really important.


	11. Guns and Roses

A/N Alright it's been five months and I should apologize for that. This chapter would have come out sooner but my hard drive went kaput and I lost the original chapter plus all the notes, scenes, jokes, or outlines for all of my fan-fiction stuff. So yeah I've been set back allot on the fanfiction front.

I know the length of this chapter might be annoying for some, but it's been five months and I can't stop writing until I am satisfied.

I'd like announce that Joe Stoppinghem (being the 100th reviewer) is the winner of the name Ron's horse contest.

I may soon (HA) be in need of a proofreader.

* * *

**Four years ago:**

The day was still and hot. Sweat trickled down Ron's cheeks and his body, soaking through his shirt. Peeking through a thicket, he studied the terrain with care. His gaze started in the far distance and worked its way nearer, taking in all the rocks, bushes and tall grasses. He saw no dust, heard no sounds, and detected no movement.

All signs pointed to trouble.

Ron considered his options. Murdoch was out there, somewhere, most likely very close. He had to find Murdoch first - he couldn't face failing again. His eyes wandered for a moment or two before he began creeping through the forest.

In his mind he went over the map of the surrounding area. It had taken weeks to memorize the miles of land around him. Open plains behind him, the river ahead; logically the river was where his best chances lay. He could hide his trail, maybe double back and corner Murdoch. It was logical, maybe too logical, that was probably what the old man was expecting.

The sun sank and long shadows crept out of the hills. Instead of going straight to the river, he'd move along the river bank, in the shadows. If Murdoch was waiting for him, he'd have him at his mercy; if Murdoch wasn't there, then he'd… at least he would have time to think of something else. He moved on, checking the distance of the stars, and continuing along the river.

Several minutes later he heard movement close by. And after hours of silence, the disturbance in the forest came in loud and clear. Ron eased himself onto the soft ground. He lay there, for a long period of time, listening, and watching.

Patience was a vital trait, it was a key to survival. Such a fact had been drilled into him repeatedly. Heavens knows how hard it had been for him to perfect the art of patience. As Murdoch drew nearer, Ron quietly crawled along the ground, his intention bent solely on flanking his mentor. He removed his revolver from its holster when he felt that he was in prime position for an ambush. He pulled himself up and thumbed the hammer back. With a flush of excitement in his cheeks he jumped forward.

"Got ya."

He aimed his weapon at the darkness before him. Startled by Murdoch's disappearance act, Ron waved his revolver from side to side.

"Wh… where?"

Then he heard it, the faint click that he had grown very intimate with. The sound caused his nerves to come afire. He thought of quickly diving into a nearby bush. No, he should drop into a roll and come up with the gun. No! There was no time! He would face him straight up. That would take Murdoch by surprise.

Ron spun quickly.

Only to find himself nose to nose with Murdoch's gun. Dejected Ron dropped his weapon and placed his hands up in the air to surrender.

His face expressionless Murdoch holstered his Colt. "I see that you're thinking things through."

A faint smile came over Ron's young face. "I know. Lately I have had a whole mess of… plans going on at once inside my head."

"That's a bad thing."

The gruff interruption hit Ron like ice water.

"You're thinking too much, you're wasting time. You can get killed while you're thinking."

Ron gaped back at Murdoch in disbelief. Then he snatched his hat off his head and attempted his best to hold back the tears.

"That just don't make a lick of sense. First you say I'm not thinking at all, then when I finally learn how to think, you say I'm thinking too much."

"Thinking is all well and good for scholars. Gunslingers don't have that luxury, 'specially when another man is shooting at them. Son, your actions have to be damn near instinctive. Pure reflex."

Ron ran his right hand across the back of his neck.

"Can't you just tell me how to win?"

The air thickened as Murdoch eyed the young boy.

Though he had been living with the begrudging gunslinger for some time now; Ron still found it hard not to wilt under the man's piercing glare. Wordlessly Murdoch stepped forward and picked Ron's Colt off the floor. Ron watched curiously as Murdoch loaded the weapon with bullets, before tossing it to Ron.

Ron immediately holstered the weapon

"Impress me, boy."

Ron moved and the Colt was in hand, he twirled the gun, tossed it to his left hand and then sent it spinning back to his right hand. It was still revolving when he slammed it into the holster.

Murdoch nodded. "Now draw and fire on three."

"What?" Ron's eyes did their best imitation of saucers.

"Hook and draw on three."

"What?" Ron repeated. "Murdoch I enjoy a good joke as much as the next boy but…"

"One."

"You're not going to shoot me..." Ron chuckled

He stared into his mentor's eyes and didn't find the answer he was looking for. Not knowing what to expect Ron lowered his shoulders and slowly began to shirk away.

"Hold on, Murdoch, I'm going to back down now. I'll just go back to camp and get started on dinner."

"Two."

"One minute now! Wait just one minute."

Murdoch didn't make a move.

"Things have gotten all balled up somehow. Let's try to keep our heads together."

Murdoch chewed on the end of his mustache as he appeared to be in thought.

"Draw." he said suddenly.

Ron drew.

Two shots, so close together they sounded like one. Ron's hat had taken to the air but Murdoch stood unmoving, with the same stoic expression on his face. The only sound to be heard was of Ron's heavy breathing.

Murdoch was the first to move and his hand went directly to the side of his neck. He touched it gently and then dramatically revealing his bloody fingertips.

"Marksmanship is also a reflex."

Murdoch read the expression on Ron's face - a mix of horror and relief. He took Ron's gun and removed the bullets. When he spoke up again he voice was flat and emotionless.

"How about that dinner?"

* * *

Back at the camp Ron poured out the last remnants of a pot of stew into a large wooden bowl. Then he quietly shuffled towards Murdoch who was lying contently against a tree stump. Ron offered Murdoch the bowl and the man less than graciously accepted. Before eagerly shoveling the stew into his mouth.

Instead of retreating quickly as per usual, Ron continued to hover over Murdoch as he ate.

Lips smacking Murdoch glanced up at him "if you can shoot as good as you can cook. You'll be damn near unbeatable."Ron did his best to suppress a grin. "Really?"

"No." Murdoch pronounced flatly.

"Of course." Ron scanned the encampment. They had camped in a grove of junipers and pines, besides a clear bubbling stream. He took in a deep a breath, his thoughts reverting back to his recent brush with death.

"Smells like lightning."

"Smells like…" Ron glanced down at Murdoch. "You smell lightning?"

"It'll be here in a few moments."

"All I can smell is old pork. You know it wouldn't kill us to go back into town and get some fresh food." He searched the sky and noticed a storm blowing in from the mountain ranges. Flashes of silver branded the sky.

Ron whistled to himself. "There _is_ storm coming through. You have a mighty impressive nose Murdoch - a gosh-darn mighty impressive nose."

"Do you have something to say to me, boy?" Murdoch inquired in between spoonfuls.

"I sure do, Murdoch. Are you part dog?"

"Something to ask that isn't a heap of bosh." Murdoch snapped.

"Well, uhm, that is to say - what would have happened if my shot went a little to the right?"

"I would have died."

Ron kicked a stone from underfoot. "What about if your shot had been lower."

"You would have died."

"Yeah I figured that."

Crouched over Ron picked up a branch and used it to scrape the surface of the forest floor.

"Murdoch, you are fast on the draw, right?" Ron stated.

"That's what people tell me."

"I mean, I know you are fast, I've seen you shoot before. I know fast when I see it. What I am saying is… no has beaten you to the draw, right?"

"I'm still alive, aren't I?"

"Yes, you are… The thing is, you are known as the fastest around - no man has gone up against you and lived."

Murdoch let out a deep sigh. "That's what the dime novels say."

Ron nodded "Yep, that's what they say… I mean you're a named gunman - you are known as Fast Timothy Murdoch!"

"Yep."

Ron drew in a breath. "What's got me stumped is why you settled for a tie back there. I mean I am obliged for, uh, not being killed and all. Don't think I am not, because I am."

"I didn't settle for a tie."

"Oh."

"You beat me to the draw boy." Murdoch said interrupting Ron's thoughts "You shot first."

Ron froze.

"Naw..." he muttered with a shake of his head. "Now you are poking fun."

Murdoch laid the empty wooden bowl beside him. He pulled a cigarette from his vest and used a sulfur match to light it. He stared off into the distance with glassy eyes as a blind man would and began to talk in a low strained voice.

"When I found my Rosa dead--" he said suddenly. Ron snapped into attention. It was a rare event for Murdoch to speak of his late wife. Out of respect for the man, and for his own curiosity, Ron sat down and remained perfectly still. Thereby giving Murdoch the attention he deserved.

"--in the home that we built together. I tell you this, a woman like Rosa is a scarce as hen's teeth. She was a hundred different things to me on any different day."

Murdoch glanced briefly at a beaming Ron.

"What I was saying is, that when I saw her there dead on the ground, I knew that a lot of men were going to die. Right and wrong didn't really matter anymore."

He took a long drag of the cigarette. "Many times I found myself outgunned and seemingly out of luck. But I made it through. I made sure her death was avenged. I didn't lose because I knew I _couldn't_ fail."

He spat onto the ground before turning to Ron. "What was running through your mind when I faced you there?"

"I thought... I figured I made a promise to my family, I gave my word. Like I've said before, my Pa always said a man has to keep his word."

Murdoch extinguished the cigarette and laid his body down beside the stump. "Brains, skill and more importantly, luck. You son have neither."

Ron rolled his eyes "not this sermon again."

"But there are four other factors, you may be interested in. They can seem like minor details to some, major details to others, and they can change everything or change nothing."

"What are they?"

"Purpose, volition, and destiny." Murdoch placed his hat over his face and folded his arms under his head, signifying an end to the conversation.

"Those were only three factors."

Silence

Ron cleared his throat. "You forgot to tell me the last factor."

"Don't worry your head about it. It's the least likely to help. But you'll know it if you find it. If you don't you won't."

"What?" Ron replied incredulously.

Silence.

Ron remained undeterred. "So, uhm, if you don't mind me asking - which one of those got you out of the Bigsby Ranch Wars?"

"Hmmm?"

"Was it brains, skill, luck, purpose, volition, or destiny - which one got you out of that major scrap?"

"Neither. Rosa told me to come home, so I did."

Ron smiled.

Murdoch let out a loud yawn followed by a rapid amount of lip smacking. "Know this, sometimes a man needs somebody to think about. And someone to think about him."

Ron muttered something that was muffled by an accompanying bang of thunder, and a moment later, large droplets of rain hammered down around them.

* * *

"You must be drunk."

The climate in Felix's hotel room had become chilly. Something that Ron had expected. Biting his lips, he brought his eyes to the bright sunlight pouring through the drapes. It occurred to him now, that visiting Felix so early in the morning, might not have been his best idea. He wasn't a morning person either, even though it was his job to cook breakfast for the hands at the Circle C.

"I'm not much of a drinker believe it or not."

"Could have fooled me." Felix said with a smirk. Ron was currently sitting at the opposite side of a wooden desk. Felix continued to smile at him as his right hand drifted under the table.

Ron did not miss the overt challenge, and he placed both his hands on the table in response. He remained aloof to the immediate danger he was in.

"I'm just asking for a week, and then we can plant bullets into each other for as long as we please."

"Why should I grant you such a favor, Scarecrow?"

"I have a real name y'know, feel free to use."

A hearty chuckle escaped from Felix's mouth. "why? Scarecrow is what most in Oklahoma call you, and let's not forget about Texas, Mississippi, Kansas, Missouri; hell other bad men, you've run across - they all call you that."

Ron removed his hat and placed it upon his lap. "it's of my opinion that you are misjudging me."

"Am I? Are you denying that you've left behind a trail of shootings throughout the west?"

"I am not denying anything. But, and I mean this with no offense to you, these days I like to reflect on the lighter shades of my past."

"Like what?" Felix eyebrows furrowed as Ron leaned forward excitedly.

"For example when I was six my Pa brought me some chocolate from some country called Sweet-Dan. This chocolate was amazing; it was between a milk chocolate and a semi-sweet chocolate. It wasn't too heavy on the dairy milk, which I thought was just fine. The chocolate was smoother than a baby's bottom and the cream was filling but not too sweet. It had a nice hint of peppermint to it that didn't overwhelm it too--"

He ran his hand together "--it was the tastiest piece of candy I have ever had in all my borne days. You ever had chocolate like that?"

Felix folded his arms over his chest and stared at the enemy seated across the table. Ron's chair creaked as he awkwardly leaned back against it. The squeak of the chair effectively broke the tense silence in the room.

"I have and it was delicious."

"That there is a natural truth. Here's another thing I just remembered: dreidels. You ever played with a dreidel? Now they are not really supposed to be played by anyone standing taller than a man's knee but even at my age, when I see a driedel I can't help but--"

Felix put his hand to cut Ron off. "Scarecrow, I can not lie and say I do not to prefer to have this thing between us done with as soon as possible."

Ron waved his hand in the air dismissively. "There's no law that says if you're going to get killed you've got to hurry it up."

A smile crawled to Felix's face. "I supposed that depends on who is getting killed."

Ron shrugged.

"You're trying to place me in an intricate situation."

Ron shook his head "I swear I ain't….because I have no clue what intricate means."

"It means complex, complicated; having many parts or facets; entangled or involved."

Ron ran his hands under his chin.

"Hard to understand." Felix sighed

"Alright. I am placing you in an intricate situation." He paused for a moment. "So you're an educated man huh?"

"How did you come by that opinion?"

Through the corner of his eyes Ron caught a glimpse of a waist-high bookcase in a corner of the room. It was packed with shabby books that appeared to be well read.

"Your fancy vocabulary and all your books paint a decent enough picture. It's not every day you find a well-read bounty hunter."

"I have had allot of free time, alone, chasing you down."

"That makes sense," Ron nodded with genuine sincerity. "It's a funny thing. I've often wondered if I was more of a thinker. If I was a fancy dude with the right schooling - would I have done what I have done?"

He glanced back at the bookcase. "I reckon it's got nothing to with brains in the end. It's all about the feelings."

"Feelings?" Felix asked.

"Yessum. I know you've gone through it yourself. You start out sad, because of your loss. Then you get angry, but it ain't like the anger most people talk about. Like he was 'hopping mad' or he got all 'heated'. There's no heat to it. It's really a cold feeling, an icy feeling that covers your whole body."

Ron and Felix stared at each other intently, each one's visions blurred with images of the past and of wide ranging emotions.

"I'm sure when it's all said and done, the coldness goes away." Felix said.

"It clears up all right. But of course then you're right back to where you were in the beginning, with the sadness. Or in the worst cases, some folks might not feel anything at all."

Felix sat back and drummed his fingers on the desk. "I'll give you a week. But if you leave town, I will follow you to the ends of the earth and I'll be as mad as a hornet, all the way there."

"That's more than fair." Ron reached over the table and extended out his hand.

Felix glared down at the hand and then back at Ron. "I'm going to kill you. You know that, right?"

"Well that shouldn't get in the way of our friendship." Ron replied with a grin.

Ignoring Ron's act of friendship, Felix stiffly raised himself up out of his seat. Ron placed his hat back on his head and followed suit.

"Y'know, you could be friendlier about all this. I mean we are a bit alike, you and I." Ron said with a simple wave before he turned away.

Felix snorted "I like how you're turning your back to me. You must be brave or incredibly foolish."

"You said you wouldn't try to kill me for a week." Ron glanced over his shoulder "I figured you'd be a man of your word."

Felix nodded

"You do realize" he announced when Ron was the door. "That I am here to--"

Ron rolled his eyes "to try and kill me, in a week. Yes, I know."

"I just want to make sure you savvy the situation we are in."

"Oh I savvy just fine. Still it's a heck of a shame."

"What?"

Ron sighed "I was just starting to warm up."

With that said Ron walked out of the room, leaving Felix alone to contemplate the impromptu meeting. Shaking his head he plopped himself down on his bed.

"He must have been drunk." Felix concluded.

* * *

That afternoon, one would be hard pressed to find another with more of a lackluster attitude in the Club Banana saloon than Kim Possible. She watched quietly as Monique attempted to dazzle her with card tricks. Monique shuffled a deck, cut it and picked out four cards from random locations. When she turned over the four cards on the table, they were all aces.

"What do you think?"

"It's alright."

Her hand on her hips Monique said, "If you need to act a bit unimpressed because you are envious, I understand. But don't insult me. That was great and you know it."

Swishing her fingers across the bar, Kim glanced up at the irritated hostess. "I'm sorry, it's just that, well, I'm sure you have heard about the bounty hunter who has come after Ron."

"Have I? The whole town is talking about a shootout." Monique said, offering Kim a round of tsk's. "There's no more foolish a creature than a man. I mean, you don't see woman running around waving revolvers at each other, do you?"

This managed to drag a smile out of Kim. "There's quite a bit of truth to what you're saying."

"I understand you have your concerns, but let us not forget that boy is a prize winning gun thrower. We've got many witnesses who can profess to that."

"Yes, well."

Though she may not have asked for it, images of Ron's shooting efficiency flooded her mind. She had always felt there was something peculiar about Ron, but it never occurred to her that he'd have such….skills. Many times she had gone back and forth over she ultimately felt about such skills.

"There's no denying that he's is more than capable around a gun. However, the way Ron's approaching this whole ordeal--"

Kim shook her head. "--I feel there is something off about his behavior."

"Honey, he's no green horn to shootouts. If the scuttlebutt about him has any merit, he's got a string of shootings as long of my arm."

"Scuttlebutt?"

"There's talk." Monique leaned over the counter.

Kim raised a skeptical eyebrow. "Talk?"

"Tidbits, coming from out-of-town, and that writer, the one who came in with the bounty hunter, he's been fanning a few flames as well."

"I am aware that Ron's got some fame attached to his name--"

"You should hear the stories." Monique cut herself off mid sentence and studied Kim carefully. "No you shouldn't hear; you should already know these things."

"What makes you say that?"

"You two seemed close. I mean you are good friends after all. I just assumed he'd let you in on the details of his past."

"I know of his past; a part of his past, I suppose. He hasn't been that forthcoming about the rest. I have a feeling he's not too proud of his prior escapades."

"Hmmmm." Monique joined Kim in quiet reflection. After the moment's pause she grabbed a cloth and began to wipe down the counter top.

"The only advice I can give you is that you should follow your intuition: it may be the only thing we women have to make sense out of this world."

It was then that Ron sauntered into the saloon. He entered with a bright smile, yet his movement was noticeably wooden. His eyes fell on Kim and Monique, and he quickly made his way towards them.

"How do, y'all?" Ron greeted. "You ladies are looking fine this afternoon."

"You _appear_ to be high spirits." Kim told him.

"I usually am when I get enough sleep." He turned cheerfully to Monique. "Barkeep, a bottle of your finest lemonade."

"Why not?" Monique replied with a roll of her eyes.

As Monique went off to grab the drinks, Ron realized that Kim's attention was focused squarely on him. Before he could ask if there was something wrong, she began to speak.

"How did you fare with your bounty hunter friend?"

He laughed. "Yeah, he's still aimin' to kill me. But he's giving me a week to prepare."

"Prepare?"

"For the fight, of course." he said quickly. "Remember my wrist is still a little tender from my injury."

"Of course." Kim pinched her lips together. "Did you even try to sway him away from this 'fight'."

"It wouldn't have mattered."

"Did you try?"

He shifted uncomfortably in his seat. "No I did not. I must have misrecalled to do so."

"Misrecall? How could you _misrecall_ something concerning your very life."

"Heck, you should consider it lucky that I got a week to sort things out. I could have gone up there and had my brain blowed all over creation."

"Blown." she corrected with frustration. "You would have had your brains _blown_ all over creation. In addition there's no such word as misrecall."

Ron stared intently at the table. "Do you suppose this is the proper time for schoolin?"

"Why not?" Kim uttered "Is there anything more serious we should be talking about? I can't rightly tell."

"I'm getting the feeling that you're upset about something?"

"Well for one thing I happen to be very worried about y--

Before Kim could end her sentence, one of the saloon doves plopped herself directly onto Ron's lap and wrapped her arms around his neck. Her dress was so tight it would probably stifle most women; it was also cut low at the top, displaying her ample wares.

"And where have you been cowboy?"

Ron gulped loudly.

She traced her finger across the bridge of his nose. "Now you remember little ol' me, don't you?"

"It's Claire, right? You are Bo and Stanly's, if I recall."

"I can be a friend to you as well, sweetheart."

Ron felt as if he would cough up a lung. "Ma'am, you are making it especially hard for a fella to remain a gentleman."

Claire Annette giggled at this with much mirth. This of course led to the loudest and angriest throat clearing ever in Middlewood.

"Is there a problem, hon?" Claire asked as she eyeballed Kim.

Before Kim could reply Monique returned with the lemonade. "Claire I'd appreciate it if you could man the fargo tables, Janice has suddenly taken ill."

"Certainly" Claire proceeded to hop gracefully off Ron's lap. "Give me a holler won't you darling" she patted Ron on the shoulder and went on her merry way.

"That's one friendly gal." Ron smirked. His head swiveled back to Kim. "Now, you were saying something?"

Without uttering a word, Kim pushed herself from the bar and marched angrily out of the saloon.

Clearly confused Ron could only watch her leave. "Monique I reckon she's riled up about me somehow."

Monique put her hand out "hi, I'm Madame Alexander, you must be Monsieur Obvious."

"So she is upset with me?"

"Yes she is and if you don't get a wiggle on and catch her, she'll be plenty more upset by the time you get home. Trust me, as a woman, I know."

Not needing to be told twice Ron hurried out of the saloon and down the street.

"Kim." He said when he caught up to her. "It seems lately that I've been putting my wrong foot forward."

"It seems." she said as she stopped in the middle of the street.

"Well how can I make amends?"

"Is there something you want to tell me?"

The look Ron gave her was one of hurt and apology. "I'm telling you fair, there's nothing I really _want_ to tell you."

She turned away from him and started down the street "Well I'm not going to weedle the story out of you. I am going home."

"KP" He watched her walk away. "Dang, there is nothing more intricate than a female" he muttered to himself

* * *

**Three days later:**

It had been Felix's intention to stow away in his room, possibly getting acquainted with a book, until it was time for the gunfight. That _had_ been his intention, until Jimmy Blamhammer dropped by his room in the night, to inform Felix that; while those of the self righteous persuasion would only respond to Scarecrow with an upturned nose; there was enough support in town to safely conclude he wasn't exactly in friendly territory. Also bets were being taken at some of the saloons; apparently Scarecrow was the heavy favorite.

Felix had awoken the next morning with an urge to explore the town.

"Hey mister, what's it like fixin' to die?"

Felix glanced down at the little boy who had been curiously watching him ever since he had entered the hotel lobby.

"Who says I am going to die?"

"Everyone, 'specially the undertaker" the boy told him.

"Huh" Felix fished a coin out of his pocket and tossed it to the young man. "Run along kid, go get yourself a sarsaparilla drink."

Minutes later he was scourging the streets for the toughest salon on town. His search brought him to the Dessert Oasis. He shuffled through the batwing doors and an instant hush fell over the saloon. Everything appeared normal, men lounged around the bar and others played poker. But what caught Felix's attention was the blackboard at the end of the bar. The blackboard featured his and Scarecrow's name, and the odds of their survival. The saloon was giving twenty to one odds against him. He gave the bar patrons a scathing look that caused those who glanced at him to stiffen in their seats. He then shouldered past a group of men to get to the bar.

"I want five empty glasses."

The bartender gave Felix a dubious look, "what's that?"

Felix dropped a handful of gold coins onto the bar "why don't you just run along and get me those glasses."

The bartender shrugged and turned away. As he waited Felix kept his peripheral sight on two men sitting to his side; unlike the others they had kept their eyes on him; and now with lighted cigars in their mouths, they raised themselves up out of their table. Both had on low crowned flat brimmed hats, but one of them wore a flowery poncho. They were both very large men and they were coming towards him.

"You're him ain't ya?" asked the man in the poncho. "You're the bounty hunter."

Felix glanced at them briefly "maybe, who is asking?

"Name's Johnny Bull, this man next to me is Clay."

"Please to make your acquaintances" Felix replied without looking at the men.

The bartender arrived and handed Felix the shot glasses; he took a look at Johnny and Clay and then he slowly retreated to a back room.

Johnny made a slight head gesture towards the blackboard "looks like the odds are against you."

"Not being much of a gambler, I can't really say I hold things like odds with such high regard as some other men." Felix grabbed the shot glasses and deftly arranged them in the formation of a mini pyramid.

Clay took a puff of his cigar "with a little charity, there might be a way to even out those odds, if you catch my drift."

Felix studied the mini pyramid with admiration "and how would you do that?"

"There are ways" Johnny answered. "One on one ain't the only way to get at a gunfighter in this town."

"I see" Felix backed away from the bar. "I recall hearing about a man in Louisiana who went by the handle of Clay McBride, he was known as a back shooter. What did you say your full name was again Clay?"

Clay's eyes narrowed as he stared Felix down "Smith…Clay Smith" the man said after a long pause.

"Right….excuse my manners boys, I know that a Western's man's name is his own business. But I have to decline your offer."

"And why is that? It's win-win for everybody." Johnny scowled.

"'cept Scarecrow" Clay added.

"Fellas I don't reckon I need your help."

"You hear that Johnny, he doesn't need our help. He thinks he's better than us; you see that don't ya? He's giving us the high hat."

Johnny's Bull's face scrunched up in anger "you should use a friendlier tone son, I'm not a man used to getting the high hat."

"There's a first time for anything isn't there." Felix slowly limped past them "see the thing is, I don't associate with back shooting, scum sucking, snake in the grass lowlifes like yourselves."

Johnny and Clay stewed in silent anger

"Oh and I say that with the utmost respect." Felix said as he sidled towards the exit.

"Rest assured you ain't heard the last of us!" Johnny Bull declared.

Felix stopped before the exit "is that right?"

To everyone's surprise Felix spun to face them with his Colt sweeping from his holster. Before anyone could utter a cry, Felix fanned his revolver and the mini pyramid of shot glasses exploded into dozens of tiny pieces. Five shots, five glasses obliterated in a heartbeat. Johnny and Clay stared silently, their eyes darting back and forth between the bar and the bounty hunter.

"I'll be listening then boys" Felix scuffled through the exit.

Moments later the bartender cautiously wandered back into the quiet saloon. A wet rag in hand he made a beeline for the blackboard. For the rest of the week the saloon would only be taking bets at even odds.

* * *

"That was an impressive display of skill."

Felix had a smile on his face when he heard the vaguely familiar voice. He stared at the woman stepping into his field of vision. He immediately placed the face; it was the woman he had seen with Scarecrow.

"I am Kimberly Possible and I want to talk to you on behalf of Ron--

"Scarecrow?"

"Ron" she insisted.

Felix shrugged "I've got nothing to say about _Ron_" he started down the boardwalk.

Kim followed after him "must things resort to this?"

"Resort to what exactly, Miss Possible?"

"To this shootout….this senseless killing" she said.

"Last I checked I was in full control of my senses."

Kim tsked disapprovingly "I see Ron isn't the only one taking this lightly."

"Miss, I don't know about Scarecrow, but there are two things I don't take lightly, gun play and the Almighty."

"This is a dangerous game you're playing."

Felix nodded "it's called blood vengeance ma'am. It started dark and ugly and it will only get darker and uglier."

Kim was now walking side by side with the bounty hunter "Ron is not the person you perceive him to be."

Felix stopped "oh so he's not an infamous gunman?"

"Yes well, it appears that--

"He isn't a killer?"

"Well there are circumstances to be considered--

"So he isn't the man who beefed my friend?"

Kim hesitated "again, I'm sure there are circumstances to be considered."

"If he isn't what I claim him to be, then what he is?"

"He's…..he is Ron" she said simply.

"Ah that makes me feel so much better about things…..Miss Possible maybe you should reassess which one of us is perceiving wrongly."

Felix adjusted his hat. "But you need not worry about it that much. All accounts will be settled one way or the other by the end of the week."

"Settling accounts" Kim scoffed. "And here I thought this country was a beacon of civilization."

Felix moved in closer to Kim "do not presume to take on airs with me Miss Possible. You do not have an accurate grasp on the situation."

"You make it sound like I am as dense as lead, I am not blind to the tension in the air. However you do not appear to be a bad person; I am hoping to appeal to your humanity. Mistakes may or may not have been made, but do you really believe killing Ron will make you feel better?"

"It might. If Scarecrow is fed to the vultures I may sleep better at night. Chances are it wouldn't make me feel worse. I won't know until I do it will I?"

Kim's eyes narrowed "judge, jury, executioner, you believe you have the right?"

"Am I truly the one you should be having this conversation with?"

Kim found that she didn't have a reply.

"I cannot say I am sorry, but the situation is regrettable. However Scarecrow brought this on himself, you step on toes you get kicked."

Kim bit her bottom lip in frustration.

"Are we having problem here?"

Kim and Felix both turned to see Barkin step onto the boardwalk "I heard shooting earlier."

Felix smirked "nothing to concern yourself with Sheriff, there was just a friendly exhibition going on in the saloons."

"Ah"

"Sheriff, excuse me for interrupting but I have an important matter to discuss with you at a more appropriate setting." Kim turned to Felix "I am hoping in the next few days you will reconsider. It would be beneficial to everyone _including_ _yourself_ if you had a change of heart before the duel."

Felix's eyebrow rose with curiosity, he had the distinct feeling that he had been threatened.

"Now if you'll both excuse me" Kim executed a mini curtsy before marching away.

"Hmmm she's gone and got herself agitated" Felix remarked

Barkin shielded his eyes with his hand and stared up into the sky "hot out today. Heat sometimes makes a man loose with his trigger fingers. I'd suggest you spend an afternoon in a cool cell, get the sun off your back for awhile."

"I…."

"It's not really a suggestion son." Barkin declared.

Felix quickly weighed the pros and cons of "civil disobedience." He discovered more cons than pros and decided to play along. "Sheriff I think that would do wonders for my disposition."

* * *

**One Year Ago:**

Ron and Seth broke out of the moon washed prairie in a mad sprint. They dashed into the forest and let it envelop them. They continued running hard for another thirty yards, before darting behind a pine.

"We're in quite a bind wouldn't you say?" Seth muttered in between breaths.

"Hush" Ron abruptly raised his hand.

He listened to the sounds of the forest. In a matter of moments the immediate area would be crawling with killers. In their search for Ron and Seth, they would push over every rock, peek through any nooks and poke any shadows they could find

"Yes I'd say we were in a bind…..a pretty large bind" he sighed.

"I can't imagine a worse bind."

'Dang" Ron slapped dirt of his pant leg "it's all my fault, I didn't think Neville would go this far."

Seth gave Ron a look of incredulity "you didn't expect that cutthroat and his pards to ambush us? After he discovered who you were and then after you challenged him to a shootout, you didn't see that coming?"

"Yes I did, I ain't stupid" Ron replied. "What I didn't see was him having so many blasted bodyguards. Three would have been risky but manageable; five would have been trickier but doable in certain situations but fifteen! Who is he the President?"

"I admit it does seem a bit extravagant. But then again, I reckon hearing some of your former running mates have been shot down can make a man paranoid."

"You're right Seth I really should have considered his feelings on the matter." Ron replied with much sarcasm. He peeked from behind the pine "what do you figure our chances are?"

"Well considering the nearest town is where we just came running from; its the only town in this county by the way; and we have about fifteen outlaws between us and it, outlaws who are local so they should know the forest like the back of their hands, and we are without horses, I'd say the chances of us sneaking out of the forest are pretty slim."

Ron reflected quietly for a moment "so we gotta fight."

"Yessum."

"What do you figure our chances of surviving the fight?"

"Pretty slim" Seth replied.

"Is there anything that ain't slim?"

Seth grinned "not in Texas there ain't."

Ron closed his eyes; the situation seemed grim at best. Suddenly there came a sharp shout from within the forest. Ron recognized the shrill voice of Neville Addams immediately.

"Not what you expected huh Scarecrow? What did you think was going to happen? We would stand out in the street back to back, walk about ten steps like it was a duel. HA! I know who you've killed boy, and they were a hell of allot faster than me. I'm done with the gun slinging game Scarecrow; I've got a nice little hacienda waiting for me in Old Mexico."

Ron blew out a soft breath. This was his best and worse chance to get at Neville. If the outlaw slipped away now he would most likely reinforce himself with more guards, and then head directly for the border. Down there it would be much harder for him to be found.

"I am going to go for it. Seth I--

"You want me to fight alongside you right?"

"No."

"I'm going come anyhow. I've been called a number of things in my life but I've never been called yeller."

"I should have known" Ron replied with a smile. "We better mosey then."

"Hold on now" Seth placed his hand on Ron's shoulder. "We've got about a snowball's chance in hell of getting out of this thing alive. We do not need to make our chances worse by wasting bullets."

Ron sighed heavily as he peered forward. He could barely see under the dim moon light.

"Ah you already know huh….I am aware you are the type of man who is skittish about who he chucks lead at. But these are some of the saltiest men I've ever had the pleasure of being run out of town by. They will squeeze the trigger if they have any strength left. Make every bullet count Crow."

"Make every bullet count" Ron muttered to himself.

"We won't get out of here if you don't curl some toes" Seth patted Ron on the shoulder "All right then, I'll see you at the crossroads I suppose."

Ron was already deep in thought when Seth crept away with his rifle. Steeling himself for what was to come he conjured up an image of his family. He was so close to avenging them, so close to finally bringing this to an end. His face was sketched with grim determination but his hands and arms shook as if he were being blanketed by a winter chill. He inhaled and exhaled quickly, it had been verbally beaten into him that the end could come at any time, at any place….but he couldn't let it happen now, not here. Not until it was all done, he had made a promise to them.

A promise he had no intention of breaking.

The crack of Seth's rifle fire caused Ron to come to life. He sprang from behind his hiding place and plunged into the forest.

"Hold it right there" an outlaw stepped out of the shadows. He was tough but he wasn't smart. He raised his weapon without thumbing back his hammer. Ron drew and sent a bullet crashing into his heart.

Ron ran, slipping in between tress when he could, darting through the shadows, ignoring the bullets the sizzled the air around him. No, not bullets, bees, to him they were nothing but massive bumble bees buzzing at his ear.

He had never been fond of bee stings.

Crashing through some shrubs, he caught a group of outlaws with rifles at their shoulders off guard. Three quick shots, three bodies going limp and hitting the ground, and then Ron moved on.

"Look out for the blond one!" someone shouted. "He's a bona fide hellion!"

An oak provided temporary sanctuary; Ron crouched behind it, aimed and shot at those who charged at him. They fired back, but it was dark and he was too low to the ground. Four of five of his shots took men down.

A bullet shattered the bark of the oak, and another grazed Ron's shoulder. He dove onto the forest floor, and he began to roll. Bullets kicked dirt up into the air, but Ron didn't have the nerve to stop moving. As he rolled, his hands went to his belt, and he snatched up bullets.

He rolled to his feet and reloaded.

Instinct and reflex.

He fired to keep the wolves at bay before dashing forward into the forest. He heard an angry yell, he heard Seth's rifle booming in the distance, then feet pounding behind him. He ran up hill, once at the top he stopped abruptly, turned to face the outlaws, and unleashed a hailstorm of bullets down onto them.

Breathing heavily he continued to move forward, reloading in between gulps of air.

They came from the front and the rear, from the left and the right. They seemed to be coming for all directions, these faceless shadows with guns. Ron used the trees as shields, he shot them as fast as they appeared, they were tough but they weren't as quick or accurate with the gun as he was. He hit them in the head or the chest whichever was available, and he took his best guess at vital areas when he retaliated at muzzle flashes. How many he had shot personally he could not tell. But they had kept on coming and he had kept on firing until there was absolute silence within the thick fog of gun smoke that hung in the air.

He reloaded, and surveyed the area. Plenty of bodies on the ground, and at first it made him sick, but his nausea was soon suppressed but quick spasms of joy. He had done it, he was alive after all.

He glanced up when someone stumbled forward. It was Neville Addams, out in the open with no cover.

Neville raised his head and forced himself to mutter hoarsely "well now I reckon you've caught me."

Seth walked in on the stare down with a grin on his face "that was dreadfully pitiful Neville; your boys couldn't hit a saloon with a cannon. Plug him 'crow so we can get some dang sleep already."

"He draws first" Ron stated.

Seth let out an exasperated sigh. "We're not in town. We're deep in the forest. This habit you have is a cussed one. It's the kind of thinking that will get a man killed."

Neville shook his head "you can't gun me down if I don't draw my pistol."

Seth melodramatically reloaded his rifle "you'll draw or I'll shoot you myself, at least the Crow here is trying to give you a fighting chance."

"Just like that huh?" Neville's eyes fell onto Ron as if he were attempting to glare him to death.

"That town you attacked while under Rooster's care. It was my town, my family, you understand?" Ron told him

The outlaw nodded slightly "so the wages of sin is death eh?"

Seth clucked "save you breath for your prayers Neville."

Neville chuckled to himself "why bother, there ain't no heaven for a gunslinger."

His laughed as Ron bristled. Neville then made a motion as if he was reaching into his vest. But then suddenly his right hand dropped to his pistol and it came up quickly.

Ron raised his Colt and fired. He was fast, smooth and unfortunately for Neville he was accurate.

Neville's face turned from anger to shock "it ain't like nothing huma—" He attempted to hold himself up but his body gave way and he fell face first into the dirt.

"Another one bites the dust" Seth remarked.

Neville was still moving when Ron stepped up to him. He raised his head, blood seeping from his lips. "Hacienda…..." was the last words he spoke.

Ron looked down at the body as he put away his revolver "Seth I am played out."

Seth slapped him on the back "let's mosey back to town. I hear they have the cleanest hotel in the county."

"It's the _only_ hotel in the county" Ron's hand went to his head "but first I've got to find my hat."

Seth groaned.

On that note the two partners surveyed the carnage as visions of clean sheets and feather pillows floating about in their heads.

* * *

The gunfight was less than two days away.

Resting his chin on his knees, Ron watched as the sun crept across the sky before resting on the rim of the world and descending behind a mountain range. He sat watching the stars come out, paying no heed to the cold darkness. He then let his eyes wander over the rolling prairie and felt that he understood why people would risk their lives and livelihood to settle out here. It just seemed to make perfect sense.

His horse galloped behind him and nuzzled at his shoulders, Ron reached up and patted the horse on the nose "I am ready pard" he told the horse.

Ron wondered if there was something else beyond this world. Normally he wouldn't allow himself to dwell on such thoughts, but things had changed. He let himself imagine something more than just an infinite silence. There ought to be something more he thought. Something for people like his family, and for little babies who got sick before they could grow old. Something more had to exist, even if it didn't exist for him.

He closed his eyes, there were no sounds but the whispering wind and the swaying grass.

* * *

"You can come out now." Ron said as he mounted his horse "I know you've been following me."

Jimmy Blamhammer skipped into view from behind a tree.

"Marvelous" he shouted. He started scribbling onto a piece of paper. "He had the vision of a hawk, the awareness of a deer, the hearing of man's own best friend, and the cunning of a lobo wolf."

Ron rolled his eyes "you are not a man for hints Mister Blammhammer. I believe I already stated I didn't want a story to be written about Scarecrow."

"Nonsense!" Blamhammer exclaimed. "Whether you like it or not sir, it is my duty as a writer to inform the readers as well as entertain them with a good yarn about rough and tumble men such as yourself. The public must know, the shining light of truth must be driven into heart of darkness and ignorance……Now the question I pose to you sir; is it true that you wrestled a bear to the ground?"

"I sure did and I rode a tornado alongside my blue ox babe. Where did you get such foolishness?" Ron exclaimed. "I got a grand idea, how about we scratch ourselves a recipe book?"

"What?"

"Hear me out; I don't want a story about Scarecrow. But Ron can teach you how to bring out the best flavor in a peach cobbler. Or better yet I have been experimenting with this Mexican style of cooking, see with some beef, a tortilla and some cheese--

Blammhammer put both his hands up in the air "I hate to interrupt good sir, but no one is going to want to read that. The readers want to know about you adventures or misadventures, your infamous deeds, and your bloody scandalous past. I also must inform you that the public will find it more exciting if you actually wrestled that bear."

"I didn't wrestle no bear, have you ever seen a bear. Those critters are big!"

"Yes of course" Blamhammer said quickly. "Now for the first man you ever killed. Would you say you delighted in the deed like an obese child in a room full of sweets or did the icy cold hand of dread snake across your body like the mighty Mississippi?"

"Pardon?"

"Wait I have grand idea of my own" Blamhammer announced. "You and Mister Renton can have the duel at the base of a waterfall. It will be the perfect cover for the book."

"There aren't any waterfalls around here!"

"How about this then?" Blamhammer drew in a breath. "You and Mister Renton duel from the opposite sides of a chasm."

"Why would we do that?"

"Think of the literary metaphorical implications. The chasm represents man and the duality of nature in regards to civilization."

At that point Ron was no longer paying attention to the excited writer. His attention was now on the two riders coming in from the distance. "Looks like we got some company, you now those fellas scribbler?"

Blamhammer squinted to see the riders "I can't say that I do. They do not seem to be the friendly sorts."

"They never are…..Why don't you back up a bit before they get here Mister Blamhammer."

"Well now it must be fate us running into each other like this" Johnny Bull stated as he and Clay Smith rode up to Ron.

"Why is that?" Ron asked.

"Heck me and Clay was just talking about you. We was thinking that we may have a plan that could benefit all of us."

"Yessir, we've been doing some serious thinking" Clay glanced harshly at Jimmy.

"Don't worry about him; he's a good friend of mine. Now go on, what have you been thinking?" Ron told them.

"For a bit of charity we can guarantee you a victory against the bounty hunter."

"Really now?"

Johnny nodded "See if you fight in town, one of us can be on the rooftops. But we figure it would be better if we can trick the bounty hunter into fighting outside then we can handle it without the law nosing around."

"Pretty good plan eh?" Clay commented.

"It is a pretty good plan, but I am going to decline, your uh generous offer."

"What why?"

"It's not my style" Ron said.

"What style is that?" Johnny muttered angrily.

Ron shifted on his feet "I don't know but it ain't mine and beside, I ain't got the money to pay yall."

"He's giving us the high hat too Johnny" Clay muttered.

"My partner is right; I think you're giving us the high hat. You think you better than us; you think you're so special that you don't need our help."

"Fellas aren't we getting heated over nothing? I am sure your talents are…second to none. I just don't care for that style of fighting. It's nothing personal. So I suggest we all walk away now while we are in good health."

"Is that some kind of back handed threat?"

Ron glanced down at his feet "pull in your horns Mister Bull, I am trying to be polite, take it as a threat if you feel you must. As long as we part ways without me having to let fly, you can take it any way you please."

The atmosphere was suddenly heavy with tension.

Eventually Clay would quietly tap Johnny on the shoulders and they would both quickly put some distance between Ron and Blamhammer.

"That's the one good thing about having a reputation. It makes some men think twice." Ron said.

He turned to Jimmy who was busy writing things down.

"When serious he had the dynamic presence of a mythic warrior, the type of warrior Homer would dedicate epic plays too. He would never back down from any conflict. He would look his enemy in the eye and lay down the challenge. The heart of a lion, the soul of a champion, he was the personification of a man, in a changing world, where the identity and nature of a man was sacrificed to the Gods of civility."

Blamhammer grinned to himself as Ron quietly gigged his horse forward "Walt Whitman eat your heart out."

* * *

With the highly inquisitive writer in tow Ron slowly made his way back towards the Circle C ranch. Eventually he would meet up with Stanley, Bo and a few of the other hands, who aided him in running Blamhammer off on the condition that he was technically trespassing on private property.

After successfully repelling the annoyance Ron spoke up "guys I want you to have my horse."

Bo and Stanley exchanged furtive glances.

"In case things turn out badly with the duel and all. I want you guys to have my pard here" Ron patted the horse on the head.

"You saying you're going to lose?" Stanley asked.

"No I'm not necessarily saying anything."

"Then there's nothing necessary to discuss."

"What I am saying….is just in case" Ron countered.

"Why would we want a horse with no name?" Bo piped in.

"Hey now, I've been through the desert with this horse."

Ron's protest fell on death ears as Stanley started their own individual conversations, chatting about nothing in particular.

"Alright fine I'll name him!" Ron went into deep reflection as the other hands watched on with more curiosity than anticipation. After minutes of contemplation Ron's face lit up "How about Red?"

"Red? Oh good lord" Bo laughed.

"But he ain't Red." Billy Fry blurted out. "Why would you call him that?"

"Why indeed?" Stanley grinned. "You do realize there will be consequences for giving that animal that particular name don't you?"

"What do you mean? I think Red's a fitting name for him."

"Imagine--" Bo started. "--Every man in town saying "there goes Ron he's been riding Red ragged all night and day" you savvy son?"

"I can't say that I do."

"That's good enough for me." Stanley declared. "Well the horse has a name; and the boss has given us tomorrow off. Tonight we're going to celebrate."

"Mister P has given us the day off?" Ron inquired

"You ask that as if you've ever done a hard day's work" Stanley quipped. "Any way the big sugar's been spending most of his time at home lately. Missus Possible has said he's been searching the house for something."

"Is that so?"

"That is so; now let's go to town and celebrate!"

Stanly's proclamation was followed by a loud whoop from the hands, except for Ron who simply shook his head.

"Uh-uh, last time I celebrated with you boys, one of you fed me too much Who-Hit-Johnny, and I woke up feeling like a blacksmith had taken a hammer to my head."

He looked around as the others averted his gaze. "And KP was upset" he muttered quickly

"What was that last part?" Billy asked.

"Nothing" Ron replied.

Stanley sighed "oh don't take on so. You of all people need to take your mind of things. It'll be fine, we are just going to play cards, shoot a few darts; you like playing darts don't you?"

"I am fond of a good game of darts" Ron conceded. "Fine but I'm not going to do any drinking."

* * *

Resting comfortably on her family's porch Kim held a large glove up against a hanging lantern "Flash powder?" she asked.

"It's relatively new idea, it's still needs some tweaking for the masses" said Wade. "See a light...can be produced by burning...magnesium in oxygen. Now magnesium powder, if mixed with an agent such as potassium chlorate, will ignite with very little persuasion, producing a bright flash lasting about ten sec--

"Wade I appreciate the effort you are putting into your explanation but you can hold onto the details. I just need to know one thing, how can I use it?"

"But the beauty is in the details" Wade protested.

Kim was about to reply when she heard the sound of pounding hooves. Minutes later a woman riding astride approached the porch. Kim recognized her as one of Monique's employees. The woman leaped off the horse and bounded onto the porch.

"Miss Possible, I have a message for you from he boss lady. Ron is at the saloon and his friends have gotten him all liquored up again."

Kim ran her hands across her face "why am I, not surprised?"

"Oh there's more bad news. Mister Renton is there, and they got him drunk as well."

"How?" Kim exclaimed.

"I can't rightly tell you, but you're friend and Mister Renton seems to have gotten drunk rather quickly and they are armed. From my experience enemies, guns and liquor do not mix."

"I have to get over there quickly."

"Here you can take the horse" the woman offered.

"You'll have to excuse me Wade" Kim mounted the horse, and quickly rode away.

Wade whistled softly "she's always running off into some kind of trouble."

* * *

"I think you've had enough for tonight." Ron slurred.

Felix hiccuped, laughed, and stumbled over to the bar "that can't be true because I'm winning. I think you've had enough"

"I think you are mabee right." Ron giggled. "But I…I...am not out of it yet."

Ron snatched three darts off the bar counter. Shuffling forward and swaying on his feet, Ron stepped up to a piece of string placed on the floor, that he assumed was five feet away from the dart board. He brought the first dart to eye level, aimed it at the board and then let it fly. The next two darts quickly followed the first. The first two landed in the outer circle of the bull's eye, the last landed in someone's drink.

"Two out of three it is then" Ron said.

The saloon exploded with applause and unabated hollering.

"Lucky skunk" Felix muttered as he used the bar to hold himself up. "You got a good eye I'll give you that much; but it'll take more than that ta beat me."

As he walked back to the bar Ron stared at the men who stood to his left and right. He waved happily at those in the crowd who congratulated him.

"I forgot those guys were there" he told Felix. "Now what wuz I sayin before?"

"You wuz sayin something about your filly."

"Oh yah! Wait she ain't my filly, but I do enjoy spending time with her……..now what was I said--saying….OK…..if I didn't kill another man for as long as I live……I'd be happier than a coyote in a hen house. But is there--were times during my journey."

He paused and chortled "journey makes it sound like it was some grand adventure…..during my travels when I felt…..and I say this considering your feelings."

Felix's head bobbed up and down as he tried to keep his questing gaze on his enemy.

"There were times when I felt sick and there were times when I was proud……I can't sssssay proud, but it's the closest word I can think of for the feeling…….I reckon. It's awful right? Feeling _proud_ about such a thing, I can understand if that makes you upset. I reckon it would make many folks upset. I'll tell you it certainly helps if you figure yourself in the shoes of an avenger. I avenged my family. I did it. I'm sure you understand what I am saying….even if only partially."

Felix remained silent.

"After Rooster I felt….it was like an elephant had lifted itself of my chest. You ever seen an elephant….I saw one once at a circus, I like the circus…cept for clowns. I can do without clowns in my life. Anyhow I swear if there had been any other way I would have, but I thunk…think…there just ain't enough justice in the world to go around for everyone….sometimes you got to take the bull by horns as they say…….that's why one of the reasons I'm not running from you."

"You're family eh?" Felix inquired.

"Yep"

"Well……what does this all that have to do with that red headed chica?"

Ron shrugged "Heck, I'm a gunslinger, my feelings, my past, it's got to be against her principles somehow don't you reckon? This might shock you some, but there are people who have gone there whole lives without killing someone."

Felix shrugged "don't worry too much about it I'm…..I'm going to keel you soon anyway."

"Again with the killing, you sure like to gnaw a bone to death don't you?"

"Ahem" a surprisingly lucid Lunsford wandered to the bar "I hate to interrupt, but are you boys going to yap all night, or are you going to finish this game. Some of us are betting on the winner remember?"

"Bah" Felix picked a dart of the counter and threw it at what he believed to be the general direction of the dart board. Fortunately before the dart could do any harm it was snatched out of the air.

"This game's over" Kim announced.

The men of the saloon groaned and grumbled with disappointment.

"Hey now I've got money riding on blondie" Lunsford cried.

Kim glared at him and he balked under her gaze. "Then again, gambling is a terrible vice" he muttered as he turned away.

She turned her attention to Ron who could only smile sheepishly. "Hey KP"

* * *

Inside the saloon, aside from the occasional mumbling of disappointment due to the anticlimactic finish to the dart game, it was relatively quiet as far as taverns go. Most of the commotion was happening outside of the Club Banana.

"I cannot fathom why you would do something so reckless. You cannot put yourself in such a vulnerable state around your enemy."

"Kim you really should have let us finish, I was about to win."

Felix leaned to one side as he shook his head "I don't know what the fuss is; I said I wasn't going to kill him until the seven days were up."

"You said you weren't going to _try_ and kill him until the seven days were up."

"Still I am a man of my word"

"He's a man of his word" Ron parroted, and then he tripped over his feet and collided into Felix. The two enemies lost their balance and dropped to the floor.

Lunsford looked over the scene with mild disgust "those two have the drinking prowess of a protestant women."

As Ron and Felix attempted to crawl to their feet a horse drawn stagecoach came to a stop before the saloon.

"You can borrow this to get home" Monique said as she stepped out of the Club Banana. "It appears to me that Ron will not be able to ride himself home."

"I can't seem to get a handle on my legs" Ron called out from the ground.

Kim turned angrily to Stanley "you're the foreman; you're supposed to have some sense of responsibility."

"We were looking out for him. If he had gotten into a scrap we would have surely backed his play."

"Backed his play" Kim replied with an eye roll. "I think it's time we get him into the stagecoach."

After the hands helped roll Ron into the coach, Kim thanked Monique and stepped in after him.

"What do we do about him?" Monique pointed to Felix who was sitting against the side of the building.

"I can get to the hotel on my own, once I recall how to walk."

"I reckon he'll be alright. You take care of our fair headed pal now."

"I'll try" Kim replied as she shut the door of the stagecoach.

The stagecoach bumped, rumbled, and lurched from side to side, jolted by each rock along the rough road back to the Circle C ranch. .Though they sat across from each other, neither Ron nor Kim had said a word for a good portion of the ride.

"You…..seem upset" Ron said.

"Do I indeed?' Kim replied.

Unfazed by her sarcasm he continued "then you are upset?"

"Oh pardon me, I just found it odd that a man would let his guard drop so considerably around someone who has sworn to kill him."

"I may have mentioned this before, but I have to say again, that you are a frightful critter when you get upset."

"Oh I am critter now?" Kim scoffed. "Like a prairie dog perhaps? Or maybe a lizard?"

"I didn't mean it like that."

"What did you _mean it like_ then?" She asked.

"I know why you're upset, but I'm telling you he wasn't going to try anything, not tonight anyway."

"Why would you trust him?"

"He's not a bad guy, he's different then Dub and Louis Wilson."

"How do you know that?"

"I can't bring myself to believe that he's a bad guy, if he is a bad guy then I'm a bad guy as well."

"Why would you say that?"

The words were out her mouth before she realized it. She had promised herself that she wouldn't pry information from Ron that he wasn't willing to share. But her curiosity had gotten the best of her.

He glanced up at the ceiling "I've dabbled in gore."

"I don't understand--

"I've killed….men" he interjected. "I am sure you've heard the rumors."

Kim blinked once or twice "how many?"

"I don't really keep count."

"I'm going to be honest with you Ron, that doesn't necessarily put my mind at ease" she told him.

"I suppose so, I won't blame you for that" Ron said with a smirk. "Some gunslingers scratch notches into their guns, to show how many men they've killed. I realized quickly enough that killing many men is not something I'd enjoy being proud about."

"Felix's friend was part of that gang and you killed him?"

He sighed "I may have been a mite rough with the man. He was part of the gang that destroyed my town and killed my family. I tracked them down individually…not a soul taken that didn't deserve it; at least it helps me to think that; I tried the best I could to keep it that way anyhow."

Kim decided to move on to the most pressing question currently on her mind "can you beat Felix?"

"Maybe."

"Are you going to win?"

"That's the same question ain't it?"

"Isn't it…" she corrected "and no it is not the same question to me, so if you don't mind I am awaiting your answer."

Ron leaned his head against the stage coach door "why should I win?"

"Because you'll lose your life, if you don't. You do want to live don't you?"

"How many mornings have I wondered if today was the day the heavens call my number? Maybe I'll be relieved, when it finally happens."

Kim shook her head "you don't believe that."

"I don't?"

"I'd like to think I know something about you. At least I can tell you're scared."

"How?"

She shrugged "woman's intuition."

"Ah" Ron took his hat off and ran his hands through his hair "KP I can't be scared. Being scared can be a serious weakness in the badlands."

He paused "but keeping fear at bay don't come easy. Cuz sometimes you get to thinking that you've never seen a play, you've never eaten at a fancy restaurant, you've never tried fishing, you've never been kissed and……there's so many things that you haven't…..

He suddenly felt dizzy; no it was more of an unsteady feeling. Somehow he knew it wasn't from the liquor. He wanted to call out but there was a lump in his throat. He couldn't breathe; he had a sense of being smothered by a giant pillow. There was a tingling or numbness in his hands. Then came the absolute terror: something unimaginably horrible was about to occur and he was powerless to prevent it.

He was shifting uncontrollably in his seat when he felt her hands on his face. Her skin was cool to the touch and it calmed him on the spot.

"You alright?" she asked.

He touch was cool but her breath on his face pleasantly warm. "Yes ma'am."

They got the driver to stop the coach and Ron stepped out into the fresh air. It took a moment or two for him to fully regain his composure, eventually his heavy breathing was muffled by the rustling wind and the chattering of coyotes.

"Thank you for helping me back there" he said.

"Don't mention it" she replied softly

"I reckon that was a lifetime of fear trying to jump out of me all at once" he said.

She looked at him, he was doubled over, and drawing in large gulps of air. "I am still amazed you are a gunman. You certainly don't look the part."

Ron removed his hat and patted down his cowlick "oh, what do you suppose gunmen usually look like?

"Tough."

He put his hat back on "good point."

"No offense."

"None taken." He drew in a few more breaths "KP can I ask you a favor….as a friend?"

"Feel free."

"This may sound brazen of me but…..have you ever kissed someone?"

Kim was taken aback by the abruptness of the question "Come again?"

I've never had the opportunity to um experience such a thing."

"You're drunk" Kim stated as a hint of red crawled from her neck to her forehead.

"Yes, yes I am…I apologize" he sniffed. "I'd be fine with nothing more than peck."

"Why don't you ask Tara or better yet Miss Annette? I'm sure she'd love to give you more than a peck."

Kim frowned when Ron seemed to be considering it.

"Oh you're incorrigible!" She turned and stormed back to the stage coach.

"No…I was kidding ya…I'm not….wait why are you mad?" Ron exclaimed as he chased after her.

* * *

The next morning Felix opened his eyes to see Jimmy Blamhammer staring down at him.

"What?" Felix groaned.

"Someone had stolen my notes; I came to seek your assistance. That is now unnecessary since that someone appears to be you. It must have been in some drunken state no doubt."

Felix sat up and glanced at the scattered sheets of paper strewn all over the room.

Blamhammer began to pick paper up off the floor "I assume you've been reading up on Scarecrow. Have you unriddlled him then?"

"Everything but his damn melancholy eyes" Felix lay back down on his bed.

"Didn't find the answers you were seeking eh? Well you may find this interesting. I was with Scarecrow when he was propositioned by two very large men. One of them was wearing a very ridiculous looking poncho."

Felix sat up once again.

"They wanted to be paid for ambushing you."

"What did Scarecrow say?"

"He declined."

Felix remained quiet for awhile. Then he rolled onto his side, showing his back to Jimmy "he might have declined because you were there. They may still be up to no good."

Blamhammer shrugged "fair enough, you are a cautious man Mister Renton."

"I have no choice but to be."

"I should also in good conscience warn you that according to some of the citizens of the town; this Scarecrow is a wizard with a gun."

"I appreciate your confidence in me Blamhammer, but townsfolk tend to exaggerate local heroes. Most of them probably have never seen him shoot."

"Well no one can say I didn't warn you. Say I have a suggestion, what if you rounded up all the towns' children and promised them each that you would come out victorious in the name of truth and justice. Very dramatic wouldn't you say?"

"Get out of my room scribbler" Felix growled

* * *

Ron awoke with a team of oxen parading through his skull and his stomach rolling like the hills of Georgia. And to make matters worse, once he wiped the sleep from his eyes he found himself staring up at Barkin.

"What can I do for you sir?"

The Sheriff stared down at Ron "you seem chipper for a man who might not live to see the week's end."

"Do the words "bedside manners" mean anything to you Sheriff?"

Barkin pulled something from his pocket and tossed it onto Ron's chest.

Ron wrapped his hand around the object "what in the world is this?"

"Some folks might call it a badge."

Ron stared down at the tattered tin star on his bed sheet "what's in doing on my bed."

Barkin blew out a breath "lawmen are required to wear them."

"I can't be a deputy, haven't you heard the….rumors about me?"

"I have heard rumors about Scarecrow, I ain't hiring him. I'm hiring you; the one who helped saved the town. As far as I know no one by the name of Ron is wanted in this or any state."

"Why?"

"Why? It should be the most obvious thing in the world. I'm not as fast and as accurate with a gun as you are, and I could use someone like you on my side. The town is growing everyday, and it wouldn't be a bad idea to have to a quick draw artist backing me up."

Ron laughed "this is" he let his words trail off.

"In addition Renton doesn't seem like the type who would take a shot at a lawman. And if he did, I and ever law enforcer in the state would come down hard on him."

"This is loco."

"What's the problem?"

"I don't know the first thing about the law!"

"You don't need to be a lawyer to wear a badge, trust me on that fact. We have a few ordinances and statues in town that won't be hard to memorize."

Ron picked the badge up and studied it "I can't…."

Why not? I can teach you the rules but the rest of it comes from inside. Are you willing to do what is right?"

"I am……..but don't make me out to be something I ain't" he handed the badge back to Barkin.

Barkin pocketed the star "I don't know how you young people can pack so much foolishness in between you ears."

"Hold on" Ron called out as Barkin started moving away. "I hope you're not planning to interfere in the fight Sheriff."

Barkin shrugged "I can't do anything until one of you gets shot. But if you must fight, I'd prefer you keep it out of my town. I am not fond of stray bullets."

"I understand."

"Oh when you get the chance give my regards to Miss Possible; very persuasive young woman, that Possible, very bright" Barkin stated before leaving.

* * *

It was late in the afternoon when Ron sauntered into the bustling Club Banana. After spotting Monique he immediately headed straight for the bar.

"Glad to see you back on your own two feet." Monique said.

"Look at what I just brought" Ron placed his saddle bag onto the counter and fished from it brown-tinted spectacles. He placed the spectacles on his face.

'Tinted spectacles, what do you think?"

"You do know those are prescribed to people who have syphilis right?"

Ron pulled the spectacles from his face "really, I thought they were quite fashionable."

"They're not" Monique said. "They're for the ill. What else do you have in that bag?"

"Some expensive Swedish chocolate, some salt water taffy, plus this" He pulled a dreidel from the bag and sent it spinning weakly across the counter.

Monique watched the dreidel with disinterest "that is dreadfully amusing."

"Monique, why must you insist on putting a damper on my spirits?"

She sighed "Kim's not here, I don't know where she is."

"Well I thought we could share some small talk before I asked." Ron leaned against the bar "she's not at home either; it's likely she's on a date with Josh."

"I don't think so; Josh is over by the roulette table talking to Sarah." Monique called out Josh's name and waved him over.

"Have you see Kim?"

"Not lately. I suppose her attention has been pulled elsewhere."

He glanced slyly at Ron. With a genuine smile on his face he said "here's a rule of thumb that I have experienced when it comes to women. A true gentleman should be aware when a lady is flattering him with her attention."

Ron nodded "of course."

Once Josh had excused himself Ron leaned further over the bar and whispered. "Did you hear that Monique, he said Kim's attention has been turned elsewhere. She hasn't told me anything about this. Who do you suppose is the feller he's talking about?"

"You tell me." Monique said.

Ron placed both hands upon the counter "I can't help but think that something about this just doesn't add up."

* * *

Felix was loosening his leg brace before he retired for the night, when he heard a tapping on his window. He limped towards the window and peered outside. The streets below appeared empty. He shrugged and finished getting ready to settle in for the night. He was climbing into bed when he heard the small, little tapping on the window once again.

Fifteen minutes later he was stepping cautiously out of the hotel lobby. He surveyed the street and caught a glimpse of furtive movement through the corner of his eyes. He looked down the street to see someone duck into nearby alleyway. Felix smiled to himself, his hands near his hip he crept slowly towards the mouth of the alley.

'"I saw you duck in there whoever you are. Come out with your hands where I can see them and I'll go easy on you."

He was about six feet away from the alley when a figure; with his arms stretched out; walked out of the alley.

"And who might you be?" Felix asked.

The figure stepped forward; half his body illuminated by a street lantern, the other half shrouded in darkness. The stranger waved his gloved right hand under the light of the lamp. Felix took note of a thin wire running from the right sleeve to the glove.

"I asked you a questi— Before Felix could finish his sentence the stranger grabbed the wire with his left hand and tugged it forcefully over his gloved hand.

Then came the brilliant flash.

Felix's gasped and his hands immediately went to his face. He was rubbing his eyelids vigorously, when he felt a hand on his collar and he was pulled off his feet. He was thrown forcefully to the ground. It didn't take him long to realize that he had been pulled into the alley. Though blinded he still went for his guns, only to feel them being snatched out of their holsters.

"Allow me to relieve you of those."

Felix swung at the voice. The stranger caught him by the wrist, bent his arm against his back, and forced his hand upwards towards his neck, placing Felix into a tight hammerlock.

Felix bore the pain with gritted teeth "what do you want?"

The stranger pushed Felix against the alley wall and added more pressure to his shoulder joint "you're going to leave town tonight."

"Ha" Felix scoffed. "I am not leaving until I've dueled Scarecrow."

"You could very well die. If you leave now you can hold on to your life."

"What kind of life would it be if I can't hold my head up in the company of men? I'm not running; I'll take my chances with the duel."

"I won't let it happen."

"You're cutting into something you do not understand!"

"I understand enough to know that I am not going to stand by and see blood unnecessarily spilled. Maybe if you had some more time to sit and think you'll change your mind."

Felix felt the stranger's hand tighten around his right index and forefinger. "Get to the doctor as soon as possible, your shoulder and fingers should heal in a few weeks. But you won't be pulling any triggers for awhile."

The bounty hunter attempted to fight his captive off when he felt his fingers being bent backwards "no!"

"You're more worried about broken fingers then dying in the duel tomorrow?" The stranger applied additional pressure "what are you trying to prove?"

"Plenty!" Felix laughed sadly "even the crippled have to stand for something."

"I knew I'd find you trying to put a spoke in the wheels" said a third voice.

Felix recognized the voice immediately

"What are you doing here?" The stranger muttered.

"Please, let him go"

"But…

"Trust me, please."

Felix felt the pressure on his shoulder ease, and then all of a sudden he was landing hard on his backside. Still temporarily blinded he heard footsteps walk away and footsteps approach.

"Sorry about this pard." Felix could sense Ron standing over him. Lashing out quickly Felix grabbed Ron by the pant leg, as he gathered his breath "doing favors for an enemy is bad business."

"Oh well you're welcome" Ron stated.

Felix felt a piece of paper slip into his hand. "This is where you can find me tomorrow, I picked it out myself" Ron told him.

"You're revolvers are right beside you."

"I got a question for you Crow? That gang had you outnumbered greatly, there ain't anything in this town worth that kind of fight. Why did you try to buck those odds?"

"First of all it depends on your definition of worth. Secondly it was the right thing to do……What would you have done?"

Felix thought it over "I would have tried to save the town."

"See we do have things in common." Ron started to walk away.

"Crow, tell you're friend I'm going to chase him down next."

Felix heard Ron chuckle and he saw the goofy grin in his mind's eye "I'd rethink that friend. Haven't you ever heard that you'll be better off letting some sleeping dogs lie?"

* * *

"Well, are you going to explain what you were doing there and why you stopped me?"

Ron had just placed a foot on the Circle C porch "don't you want to eat something before you get serious?"

She glared at him.

"What was I doing there?" Ron repeated. "Well I was there to save Felix from you actually."

"Oh, you're being glib" she said in frustration

"I'd stop being glib if I knew what that meant. But it's the truth, you were about to break the man's fingers."

"Do you want this shootout to happen?"

"I thought I told you, I feel obligated to him."

"Tomorrow, he is going to attempt to kill you. Did you forget that fact?"

"I was trying too. I wanted to have fun today….spend some time with you…..but I couldn't find you because you were planning on pouncing on Felix like a starving cougar."

"He is trying to kill you!"

Ron sat down at the edge of the porch "I've rubbed elbows with a few people who have tried to kill me. And out of all of them Felix is not that bad."

Kim sighed "I'm going to bed. I can no longer get a handle on this situation."

"Wait, don't go I want to tell you something" he patted the floor next him

She took a seat beside him.

"First thing, please don't interfere with the fight tomorrow."

"You can't ask me to sit back and wait! I am not that type of person! What am I supposed to do, sip on sweet tea while you place yourself in a death match?"

"I asked you to trust me back there and you did, why turn back on that now?"

Kim stood up and paced back and forth on the porch for a minute or so before sitting back down beside him "fair enough, I will not interfere."

"Now" he ran his hands together "I want to tell you everything, every single thing. How I learned to shoot so well, why I changed my last name from Stoppable to Cooley, why I came here to start over--

"You can stop right there" Kim interrupted.

Ron appeared perplexed "wha…..I thought you would want to know about--

"I do" she nodded. "You can tell me tomorrow."

Ron searched her face for answers "the fight is tomorrow."

Kim scooted closer to him "please believe that it is not my intention to be cruel, but when you return, we can discuss things to your heart's content."

"After the fight?"

"I'll be all ears then."

"You do realize that….." he paused. "Don't complicate the issue here; I want to tell you now."

"I'd prefer to hear it tomorrow afternoon, at an isolated back table in the Club Banana, over a nice cup of coffee."

Ron was dumbfounded "there's no….I won't….why are you being so stubborn, about this?"

Kim simply smiled back at him.

Ron massaged his forehead vigorously for what seemed to be an eternity before turning to her "this might be the most selfish thing I may ask of you. It has nothing to do with the past or the future, just for right this moment……I need you to want me to win."

She grabbed him by the hands "I feel like I know you, yet I don't know you; I'd like you to come back and tell me what I don't know."

"Do you understand what you are saying? Coming back by any means necessary?"

Kim found herself speechless. The right words didn't come to her quickly, in fact she wasn't so sure there were any right words for this situation. She was pondering on this dilemma when she caught his gaze. Then on impulse she grabbed the front of his shirt with her right hand, drew him to her and their lips met.

There was nothing forceful about the kiss. It wasn't desperate or lascivious. It was tentative, _exploratory_ and yet very much intimate. And when they parted they both had their eyes closed.

Her eyes flickered open first "just promise me you won't let the bad news beat you home."

"I promise" he sighed.

Kim picked herself off the floor and walked towards the front door. She paused with her hand on the door handle; her cheeks aglow "that was an uh friendly gesture" she squeaked.

Ron shook the fog from his brain "um I understand. I won't make too much out of it."

She touched her lips with her right hand "…right."

* * *

Ron didn't know where the time had gone. His last memory was of him walking away from the Possible home in a daze. Now suddenly the sun was out and he was examining himself in front of a full length mirror. He ran his hands from the monstrous metallic buckle of the belt the Circle C hands had given him, to the revolvers at his side. He pulled the Colt on the right from its holster, he twirled it forward, then backwards, forwards, then he flipped it high into air and caught it by the grips.

He palmed the gun "I reckon, I'm not as ready as I thought I was."

He studied himself for awhile longer. He was terrified, he was confident, and he was guilty. Part of him couldn't help but feel like he was being selfish. He quieted that part as best he could. It did coincide with his future plans

Ron was then surprised to find that he had plans. He thought about Felix, and this thought was followed by those of Middlewood and Kim.

"I reckon I was right Felix. Sometimes there just ain't enough justice to go around."

Once he was outside, and he had mounted Red. He found himself mobbed by Stanley and the other cowboys. They wished him luck and invited him to a victory party. They moved on to their work when James and Anne walked into the front yard.

"I wonder why Kim isn't here. She must have left home very early" James said

Ron touched his lips "it's probably best she isn't here. That way she won't be tempted with um troublesome ideas."

"You're in our prayers, Ron."

"Thank you kindly Missus P."

"I hope you know that I am glad that Kim has a found a friend like you."

"Ma'am I'm not sure why she'd have me as her friend…I don't know why you would allow her to have a friend like me."

"Well you did save my life, that helped greatly" James joked.

"James!"

"And I already pegged you as the type who wouldn't be brazen enough to try anything with my daughter."

"Stop it" Anne scolded.

"Honey I am just trying to liven things up."

Anne turned to Ron "you have a gentle soul Ronald, we can sense it, and I am sure Kim can as well."

"Gentle soul?" Ron smiled from ear to ear. "Ma'am I know a couple of pards who would disagree highly with that notion." He pushed his horse forward, and started to trot away.

"Thanks for everything Ronald!"

Ron glanced over his shoulder and smiled "save your thanks Mister P, I plan on coming back for more of your hospitality."

"He appears rather confident" James remarked, "even more so than when we went up against the rustlers."

"Indeed, that must have been some kiss." Anne sighed.

James caught himself mid-nod before "what kiss?"

* * *

Felix had been skimming stones across a stream when he heard Ron approaching. He didn't bother to turn around even when Ron had come to a complete stop.

"You're here early" Ron called out.

Felix picked up another stone "had to check the area didn't I?"

Ron glanced around before he dismounted "I thought Blamhammer would be here."

"He's out there somewhere; he doesn't want to disturb the artistry of the fight. Speaking of which I must admit, the "Shootout at Redemption Pass" does sound interesting. You have a flair for the dramatic."

"I didn't pick this spot for its name. The name is a coincidence."

"Of course" Felix turned to look at Ron. He studied him for a moment "you don't seem like yourself."

"Well some might say I may be more me now, than ever before."

"Interesting" he turned back to the stream. "I finally get to meet the infamous Scarecrow."

"You got your back turned to me?"

"What of it?" Felix replied.

"Nothing, just a bit odd is all."

"I've been meaning to tell you that gal of yours, she can be quite the—

"Frightful critter" Ron interrupted. "You are preaching to the choir, and she ain't--isn't my gal."

"All I am saying is that I wouldn't want to tangle with her on any given day of the week."

Ron ran his hand across his neck "um."

"Crow--Cooley--

"Stoppable" Ron mentioned.

"Stoppable" Felix continued. "I also want to tell you that Shem may have been a gunslinger, he may have done things--" Felix cut himself off. "But he was my friend you understand?"

"Probably more than you can figure."

"Lastly, I don't have a high tolerance for kindness, if I have the strength to pull the trigger once; I won't stop until the cylinder is empty."

Ron let out a deep sigh "thanks for the warning."

"I reckon you'd do the same."

Ron did not speak up right away "I only need to pull the trigger once."

Reluctantly a wide grin came to Felix's face "we'll see, won't we."

"I just wish we could have finished that game of darts" Ron uttered.

Felix slapped his knee with laughter "I know I was winning." He slung the rock across the stream. The he turned to face Ron "enough polite talk; the sun is too hot for a social gathering."

* * *

A/N: Alright let me explain the cliffhanger...I like the chapters to have a specific rhythm to them, and this chapter was all about buildup and you know the up and downs of fiction and...alright I am just a jerk.

I am little concerned that people might be worried about the pacing/plot movement. I could burst the dam now and have everything come flooding out. But I think the progression the story is going through is a good one, things will end up more epic in the long run. Trust me.

I want to know what you think about the K/R-ness am I moving too fast too slow?

Few things that were cut out of this chapter from the original outline for the sake of pacing and length.

Ron--Tara--Bonnie interaction (cut completely)

Will Du scene (saved for future chapters)

Longer Ron and Anne/James interactions (cut completely)

Shego (saved for future chapters)

Tobias update (saved for future chapters)

Next chapter is the end of the "rivalry" arc. Look for some new relevations, and some new KP characters will be introduced or mention in the upcoming chapters. and it won't take five months I swear.


	12. Unforgiven part 1

A/N Ok what have we learned. NEVER TRUST YVJ.

I promised it wouldn't take five months and well as you can see................My apologies. This will be my last semester in school (as you can tell from my typing skills, spelling, and grammar that I'm about to be a college grad XD) so RL has been a beast.

Plus you know this story has allot going for it. Believe or not I give it much thought (FYI I have found excellent roles for two other KP villains) Cuz I got to balance things out. Part KP-ness part Western-ness, AU-ness, Semi-historical accuracy. This is the hardest story to write I've got on this site...no doubt...but I like it allot and I hope you like it.

Revisionist Alert! I had to change a few things in Felix's back story in chapter 6. You can go back and check out the flashback in that chapter now or for your convenience I added the revision in my end notes. It's not that long.

XXXXXXXXXXXXX

* * *

His opponent's eyes focused on him now. They were cold and hard. Felix felt a chill but he could not turn away from the stare. The forest quieted, fading into the whisper of their breaths flowing in and out. Here they stood alone standing face to face with both men feeling drawn into the swirling black haze that seemingly surrounded them. Felix felt his spirit start to waver. However, no matter how strong the urge, he couldn't, wouldn't run. The shame of running away would have killed him many times over. He could only die once from this duel.

Felix blinked and then he witnessed Ron's arm coming up revolver in hand. He pointed it with a steady hand, and then came the bright flash.

Felix's eyes' shut for a second time.

XXXXXXXXXXX

**Twelve years ago:**

A loud whooping cough roused Felix out of his sleep. He rolled out of bed in search of the source of the cough. This brought him to his front porch and to his father. His father searched his face for a moment before patting the seat beside him. Felix stiffly walked over and took a seat. Turning his head towards the east he watched the sun creep up from its hiding place. The sky went through its daily transformation. Changing colors as if it couldn't decide whether it wanted to be red, orange or yellow.

He coughed into the back of his palm and to Felix's surprise he left a smattering of blood on his knuckles.

"Are you scared papa?" Felix inquired.

"No." His father replied quickly. "We're all destined to die. There are those who are lucky enough to have the time to say goodbye." He placed his arm around his son's shoulders. Then he stared longingly at the emerging scene in the sky letting the warmth of the morning star wash over his face.

"Ooooh Sweet Mother the pain…" There was a sharp intake of air. "My only regret son is that I will not see you grow."

Senor Renton pulled his son closer "remember to always heed your mother. You will come to find much wisdom in her pestering. In fact be respectful to all women even those who may trample upon your heart like stampeding longhorns."

Felix chuckled as his father ran his hand through his scraggly beard, "Ah what other pieces of knowledge shall I hand down to my only son…Hmmm,how one starts a race is far less important than how one finishes**.** Secondly when things get hard and go wrong it is not time to surrender, it is the time to push yourself harder."

He sighed, "that's not my saying I read that in a book. Next a man should always strive to do the right thing."

Visibly confused Felix opened his mouth to respond but finding no words available he quickly snapped it shut.

His father grinned, "I wager you are wondering what the right thing is? Well I cannot tell you what the right thing is for every situation. But I can say that in most cases the right thing is rarely simple… and it's most likely the hardest thing to do."

"Huh?" Felix replied in bemusement.

"Exactamente." his father replied. "Such is life" he coughed.

"Papa," Felix whispered into his father's left ear. "Tell me about Rosebud Creek."

"Ah yes, a grand tale," his father proclaimed. "Our regiment was camped out by the creek when we first saw the dust form their horses," Senor Renton then pointed dramatically towards the horizon. "Legions of them half naked and screeching like something from a fevered dream. Some wore headgear of crane feathers others with rawhide helmets with the horns of bulls. It could only be the army led by the mad chief Taza who had ravaged any and all Christian settlements in the area."

Already captivated Felix stared intently as his father turned back time with his words. "I barely had the time to ask for the Holy Mother's protection when a flock of arrows sailed through the sky and came down on the company."

Felix saw all this in his mind's eye. He saw the cloud of arrows blocking a large section of the blue sky and then raining down on his father's unit. He saw men stagger and drop from their mounts.

"Surely this is the end, I told myself. I turned towards my sergeant. My sergeant now he...well he was a big man. He stood six feet tall with broad shoulders and a pair of arms that looked like they could squeeze a bear. This big man stood beside me with an arrow stuck in his left shoulder and it was like he felt no pain. He lifted up his rifle and he fired shot after shot. It was then I realized that I had been screaming the whole time, my compañeros, they began to scream along with me. We shouted to match the enemy's furious battle cry. We shouted and we sent back bullets in exchange of their arrows."

The loud roar of gunfire rang out in Felix's ear. He witnessed the gray rifle smoke penetrating the dust as the horde of wild Indian lancers charged head first into the front lines.

"I cannot tell you I know exactly what happened after that, but when it was all over. There were less of them and more of us. We had captured the mad chief Taza. The celebration afterward was magnifico."

"What sort of notions are you filing my _six year old_ son's head with now?"

Felix looked over at his mother. She had just stepped out of her house and was shaking her head with faux anger.

"Your son? I was of the opinion he was my son as well."

She smiled brightly, "only because I allow it."

Felix's father laughed, "I am beholden to you then, senorita. In the meantime, I will be telling your son about the battle of Rosebud Creek."

She shook her head, "again?"

Senor Renton ran his hand across his son's head, "if you raise a man. He needs to see examples of manhood. All the men who spilled blood at that creek, they had honor, they had courage, they had strength, and they had respect for their brother who fought beside them."

With a sigh Senorita Renton ducked back into the house.

Felix tugged at his father's trousers. "Was it really a hundred Indians?"

Senor Renton bit down on his lips before laughing out, "Felix, your father may have romanticized the battle a bit…However…" He lifted his shirt revealing an ugly scar running along the side of his body. "You can be sure that arrows did rain down from the heavens that day."

Felix ran his hand across the area where an arrowhead had pierced his father's skin and he found himself overwhelmed with pride.

"I have spilled blood for this land Felix. I should hate this land. The '"Magnificent West'" as it is called….has taken so many of my amigos. But this land she is a symbol of freedom. A place where there was always another mountain to climb and a river to cross. And it takes good men to tame this land."

"Men like you Papa?" Felix inquired.

Senor Renton smiled and he patted his son on the shoulder, "perhaps…perhaps men like you as well. Now let us go disturb your mother's peace until she feeds us."

XXXXXXXXXXXX

**Four years ago:**

Felix topped the crest and looked down at the still valley below. He watched closely as a herd of cattle rumbled by heading towards his hometown. The cows looked to be in good shape, fat and glossy. The smell of cow dung and dust hung in the air as Felix stared down at one of the drovers. A tall heavy shouldered man riding an appaloosa. The man looked up and stared at him with what Felix saw as a challenge in his eyes. Felix's own eyes flickered down to the school books under his arm then back down at the herd.

XXXXXXXXXXXX

**A few weeks later**

Felix took up an erect shooting stance. His weapon straight out in front of him at eye level, he aimed carefully and fired at ten fist sized rocks lined up on a fence. He hit eight of ten rocks.

Shem O'Neil stepped up beside him and nodded in approval

"If you can hit a stone from twenty, you can kill a rustler from ten or five. Hopefully it won't have to come to that."

Felix eyed his foreman curiously. "You ever kill anyone boss?"

Shem pulled out the necessary ingredients from his pocket and began to build himself a cigarette. Noting Felix's expression a moment later Shem grinned. "Those wild hell-firing days are over, and that's all you need to know."

Felix considered this for a moment before returning to his firing stance.

"Now that you're a fair hand with a gun you're no longer a liability to the outfit." He slapped Felix on the back, "but still I can't put my finger on why you'd want to be paid a dollar a day to out think a cow"

"I've got my reasons." He glanced back at the rocks "I reckon I need more practice."

XXXXXXXXX

**Two and half years ago**

The pain, the pain was unbearable.

Daylight and the sound of someone calling out his name filtered into Felix's unconsciousness. He opened his eyes and when his vision cleared he was staring up at Shem O'Neil and the clear blue sky behind him.

Another drover appeared beside him. "Your leg is busted up bad kid, guess you should have stayed with you ma and your book learnin," he sneered.

Shem glared the man down until he disappeared from Felix's field of vision. Shem looked back down Felix "luck is a fickle lady and I reckon she's decided not to stand by your shoulder."

XXXXXXXXXX

**Two years ago **

He was lying on a blanket, covered by another; two more were spread out on the bed beneath him. Heavy rain slapped against a nearby window and Felix heard a distant rumble of thunder. He felt as weak as a kitten, powerless in a world of strong men. He was sighing to himself when he became aware of his mother siring a bowl in the middle of the room.

"How are you feeling?" she asked.

"Fair," Felix answered.

"I'm glad to hear that. I do believe you'll be up and moving in just a short while."

Though he didn't say it, Felix highly doubted his mothers' words. The pain in his leg hadn't ceased since the accident. It hurt even more when he moved. It would most likely continue to hurt for the rest of his life.

"Shem stopped by today."

Felix looked over at his mother.

"He said your job will still be waiting for you if you decide you want it back. Though of course I'd prefer you return to your studies," his mother said cheerfully.

Felix didn't reply.

"I'll just leave this here," she set the bowl down beside him.

When his mother was gone Felix ate the contents of the bowl and felt stronger.

XXXXXXXXX

**The Next Day**

Dragging himself over to the saloon had felt like an eternity. Crossing the boardwalk he had stumbled to his knees a number of times. To his humiliation a few people had stopped and stared, some had even snickered. The thought of isolating himself in a cabin a few days out of town was echoing in Felix's mind when he pushed himself through the saloon doors.

His fellow cowpunchers were exactly where he expected them to be. They had seated themselves at a table of five in the back of the room. It wasn't that long ago when he was the sixth man at the table.

"Hey, look what the cat dragged in!"

Shem was the only one who had bothered to look at him. He nodded at Felix and then he glanced at a coworker who quickly added a sixth seat to the table. Felix had begun to make his way towards the table when the front door banged open and a cold air swept into the room. Felix turned to see the two figures that had entered the room.

One of the figures pointed dramatically at Shem, "Well now Shem O'Neil years ago you rode with a bad bunch that with dirty hands. Any man who has done the deeds you have must be ready to pay when the bill comes due."

Silence fell over the entire saloon.

Tensed and poised Shem stared at the new comers. "I don't take kindly to being pointed at sir."

"I'm Seth Beechum--" the grinning man said then he pointed to the one standing beside him. The second man had a bandanna over his face but strands of blond hair were visibly under his hat "---this here is my pal Scarecrow"

"Howdy," Scarecrow announced.

Felix watched as Seth nudged Scarecrow with his elbow. He saw Scarecrow glance briefly at his friend before muttering what could only have been, "oh." Immediately a cold mask came over Scarecrow's face, Felix felt danger surrounding the young man like clouds around mountain peaks.

It was obvious to everyone there that these two were outlaws. Scarecrow sighed and tapped his vest. "I've got a list in my pocket here and your name is on it Shem."

Felix turned to Shem who was staring directly at Scarecrow. "I know who you are boy All the talk I've heard about you, I expected a man ten foot tall riding the devil. Up close you don't look like much."

"Now that's a hurtful thing to say to Shem, commenting on a man's look like that. It's downright rude."

"Enough.....when will it be?" Shem asked. "I want to be ready."

Seth hooted, "You in that much of a hurry?" He slapped a coin onto the bar and ordered a shot of whiskey.

Scarecrow shook his head. "Not now, I'll meet you in the street at early candle-light. Don't worry it'll be face to face and you'll be on your feet with your gun in your hand."

"Maybe I'll shade you kid, I'm the fastest around."

Scarecrow shrugged, "maybe." He then turned towards the exit.

Seth downed his drink, "oh, and for the rest of your outfit --"

He tossed the shot glass up to the ceiling every eye in the room followed its arc through the air. When the glass neared the floor Scarecrow turned quickly, drew, and shot the glass about an inch from the ground. The shattered pieces gathered at Felix's feet.

"Think twice now, ya hear?" Seth concluded. Then he dumped a few more coins on the bar to pay the expense of the glass.

Shem stood up, "you've played your hand early Scarecrow. After seeing that, I reckon I can take you." His voice was stiff but he appeared ready to draw at a moment's notice.

"Well I suppose so Shem. If'n my associate here couldn't draw faster than he just did." Seth exhaled loudly, "all right you grow tiresome Shem, we'll be seeing ya."

Felix didn't realize he had been frozen in place until the two outlaws had walked out of the building. When he let go of his breath, when time returned to the saloon, the pain in his leg returned.

"None of you do anything. This is between me and Scarecrow and it will stay like that" Shem ordered. He looked over at Felix, "none of you."

XXXXXXXXXXX

**Four months later**

"You are damn sure lucky Scarecrow chose not to put that bullet in your head. If I were you boy, I wouldn't mistaken kindness for weakness."

The four remaining drovers all muttered in agreement with their newly elected forearm. They surrounded Felix who was sitting up in his bed, half naked with bandages running around across his torso. His chin leaning on his clenched hands, Felix gritted his teeth.

"A cowboy is loyal to his brand, to his friends, and those he rides with. Cowards aren't tolerated in any outfit worth its salt."

"Scarecrow's not a man, he's an animal. A dangerous combination, a natural born killer who's fancy with a colt…."

"I heard from the blacksmith he might already have fourteen bodies under his belt. He's mean enough to eat off the same plate with a rattle snake!"

"We go after Scarecrow and we're likely to cash in" A third drover muttered. "Beside you're a cripple, you can barely walk. You were foolish enough to go against him once, why do it again?"

Felix looked down at the floor, "you can all leave now. I should have decided to do this on my own from the get go."

"Now hold on youngin," the new foreman said. "Don't do anything brash. Think on it a spell, someone who carries a list of men he's planning to kill, that's a man walking a dark path and he's aimin' to leave a bloody trail behind him."

"I will heal and I will follow him down that path. I will practice my draw until I see him again, then I will out draw him and kill him."

"That is THE definition of brash son..."

Felix remained silent until three of the four men in the room made their way out. The new foreman was the last to leave. When he was at the door he looked over at Felix. "Boy, there are healthy men who've met their maker in the badlands. What do you expect to do out there?"

"I am the son of a survivor sir. I swear I will catch up with Scarecrow; I put that oath on my father."

**One year later**

While adding a few essential items to his saddle bag, Felix noticed his mother staring at him.

"So this is the fruits of your laboring, exercising for hours every day since the shooting just for this journey."

"Now mama I don't need you looking blue at me," Felix muttered. "I am off to set things right."

"Is that so…?" His mother said.

"When Indians were attacking towns Papa joined the army to do what he thought was right" Felix announced.

"He did, he did indeed. But he wasn't chasing glory or vengeance. For instance I recall your father once saying 'right is right even if I or everyone else does not support it; and wrong is wrong, even if most people support it.'"

Felix placed a small mirror into his saddlebag. "What are you trying to say mama?"

"I know you will succeed Felix, you've got your father's iron will." She pointed at the mirror "when it's done when you're enemy is lying on the ground. If you can look into that mirror you just placed in that bag and feel proud then that's all well in good."

Senorita Renton walked over to her son and handed him a rosary and then she kissed him on the cheek, "but also remember you can lie to yourself but you cannot lie to God. Farewell my son."

She kissed him again before walking away. Felix then added the rosary and the mirror to the saddlebag.

**Present**

Felix eyes fluttered open, he was aware of his gun hand coming up but he also knew that he wouldn't get a shot off in time. Moments later a single bullet split the air beside his head.

_He missed_

The thought raced through Felix's mind when the bullet's buzz rescinded from his ear. Knowing his enemy could get off another shot immediately, Felix lifted his revolver and aimed. He was set on pulling the trigger when a feeling of uneasiness came over him. Something in the environment had changed. Fighting back the warning signals crackling in his mind Felix looked briefly over his shoulder. For a few seconds there was only the sound of his labored breathing. Then he caught sight of Johnny Bull staggering backwards on rubber legs, his eyes wild; a pistol fell from his hands. He had been hit in the upper part of his shoulder, blood erupted from the wound. He fell to ground and and lay still. It was more than likely he had passed out from the pain.

_Bushwhackers!_

It came to Felix in a flash. The back shooting Johnny Bull had been laying in wait to shoot the winner of the duel. Felix's eyes cut to Ron, but they didn't stay there for long. Sunlight gleaming off metal pulled his attention past his opponent. His narrow eyes locked on to another bushwhacker whose toothless grin snuck into Felix's line of vision from behind a tree. The bushwhacker was leveling a round into a rifle. Felix pulled his aim away from his original target and shot the man in the middle of the forehead. He fell on his back without a sound and died. Felix felt a pang of regret. He could have attempted to hit the man in the knee. He allowed the thought to simmer for a second before he pushed it from his mind.

Ron glanced at the dead man, "didn't have to kill him."

Felix was momentarily taken aback "didn't want to. But if you haven't noticed."

He placed his pointer finger on his lips. The temporary quiet of the forest was abruptly broken by the discreet snapping of twigs on the ground, the crunching of leaves and the occasional hushed whisper.

"They brought friends to the dance, can't really have loose ends running about."

"I noticed but…" Ron placed a bullet into the empty chamber.

"That line of thought will get us killed" Felix tsked.

Ron's right eyebrow arched, "us?"

"For now," Felix replied.

Ron holstered his weapons, "well, how do we play this out?"

Felix shrugged, "I have no idea."

Ron groaned, "that's honest, yet somehow less than uplifting."

"Well, we could do something they don't expect. Go at it guns blazing, catching them off guard."

"You mean blindly charge? This is your plan Mister Renton."

"No, I didn't say that. We go guns blazing but discreet like."

Ron vigorously scratched at his head "the idea of sleeping under a headstone isn't much to my liking at the moment."

"It's all I got. You got one better?"

Ron shook his head. "Nope. So we'll play it your way." He brought his hands down to the butts of his guns. "Dang it all, it seems like I can't go an afternoon without emptying a few chambers."

XXXXXX

"To quote Sarah Josepha Hale '"Godey's _Lady's Book_. . .was the first avowed advocate of the holy cause of woman's intellectual progress; it has been the pioneer in the wonderful change of public sentiment respecting female education and the employment of female talent in educating the young. We intend to go on . . . till female education shall receive the same careful attention and liberal support from public legislation as are bestowed on that of the other sex. Such is the mission of the Lady's Book'"

Monique plopped the magazine down on the bar before Kim. "I know you have yet to explore the Eastern States so allow me to introduce to you the one item that is worshiped by thousands of women. At the high cost of three dollars per year this is one of finest publications this nation has to offer."

Kim looked down at the magazine, "that looks rather intriguing."

Monique placed her hands on her hips, "hmm I was of the opinion that an item of such enlightenment would have filled you with burning passion."

"I have no doubt that this periodical is very fascinating."

Monique grinned, "you have not even seen the best part yet."

She opened the magazine and showcased what the magazine was best known for, the hand-tinted illustration that provided a record of the progression of woman's dresses to date.

"And almost every issue includes an illustration and pattern with measurements for a garment to be sewn at home, plus a sheet of music for the piano that provides the latest waltz or gallop."

Kim skimmed through the pictures quickly. "Admittedly everything you've said is extremely relevant to my interests. And at less hectic time I would have devoured the contents of this whole. However there are a number of things on my mind."

"If you haven't noticed I have been trying to keep your mind of off that duel."

"I'm sorry Monique, but that just might be an impossible task for you."

Monique flashed Kim a smile. "Well I wouldn't worry too much about our blond friend. He has very talented hands."

"I know," Kim sighed.

"You should be happy about that. Many women would appreciate such skill from their partner"

"I suppose," Kim said as she absentmindedly glanced at the door.

Monique's eyes narrowed at her friend. "You do realize I have implied various things with my statement."

"I suppose," Kim repeated.

"Well, Miss Possible I couldn't even raise a protest or a single hint of red in your cheeks," Monique tsked. "You are troubled indeed. I think you could go for a nice cup of tea."

"Please and thank you," Kim replied as Monique walked away from the bar.

Frustrated with her inactivity, Kim plopped her head down on the bar. Her fingers were tapping rapidly along the wooden counter top when she began to pick up snippets of conversations from a table of four behind her.

"……You think this town had it bad. Well I reckon you haven't heard about a little town called Restless Peaks in Missouri. There was an outlaw raid a month ago, they robbed everyone and shot anyone who got in there way. Remember Black Hawk Nelson, hell he lost his wife and his brother in that very raid."

Her attention captured, Kim sat up in her seat.

"That's a damn shame about Black Hawk," said another man.

"Ain't it? I've been traveling a spell and I swear it's been happening everywhere. Every few months I hear about another town getting raided, Night Riders burning farmers from their homes, or ranchers getting their land snatched out right from beneath them by bunko artists hired by the wealthy."

Kim pushed from the bar and inched a bit closer to table. The conversation continued.

"Goes to show you how much worth lawmen have in this country."

"Might not be enough lawmen to handle this mess."

"The West is going to hell in a hand basket. Mark my words, in a few years there won't be any such thing as law and order in these parts. It'll be miles and miles of badlands."

One of the men laughed, "you sure like hearing yourself talk don't ya Frank?"

"Here you go Kim."

Monique's return snapped Kim back down to earth. She took her attention away from the conversation behind her and accepted the cup of tea.

Through the long mirror behind the bar Kim managed to catch a glimpse of her father walking through the door. As he approached her eyes fell onto the the small wooden box in his hand. Her eyes were still locked on to it when James gave her a peck on the forehead.

"Kimmie-cub, I know this may not be the best time but I think we need to talk about….a uh…private matter…. something I heard from your mother …" He coughed into his hands "something about a kis--

Kim looked up from the box "what was that father?"

"Oh I suppose that can wait until we are at home. The other thing I wanted to talk about is less private. You recall we discussed our familiarity with the last name Stoppable. After rummaging through the house I came across this small box. Your mother insisted I bring this you."

He opened the box revealing the contents inside.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

Ron knew they were closing in on him. Fortunately he was all too familiar with the feeling of being closed in. He had been in this situation a number of times, and there was only one solution when one was being cornered. He checked his guns, checked the chambers, and worked them in and out of their holsters.

"Play the hand you're dealt."

Gritting his teeth Ron barreled through a thicket headlong into a group of his pursuers. Thumbing the hammers back rapidly he had both guns blazing, sending out death with every flash. The two ambushers nearest to him went down quickly; a third took a bullet as he was attempting to swing his rifle up. In the terror and confusion the bushwhackers were firing wildly at the seemingly crazed blond gunman but they weren't hitting anything. Bullets singed around Ron as he exchanged fire on the move. Swiftly he managed to cut a path through the group. Surprisingly unscathed he darted in between a group of elms. Shots rattled into tree barks, forcing him to duck behind a large trunk. He reloaded, came out of cover and fanned his right Colt dry to lay down a field of fire. Stepping back into cover he quickly reloaded again.

Suddenly from his left he heard a few spiteful barks of a revolver.

"Renton!" Ron yelled into the forest. "You hit?"

"If I am, I don't know about it!" The answer came from nearby; however Ron couldn't pinpoint its exact location.

"How did you know it was me?"

Ron examined his surroundings and strangely enough he discovered he couldn't catch a glimpse of Felix.

"I didn't 'till now."

"Isn't your shouting revealing your position?"

"That is very likely," Ron answered.

"In my part of the world most would say you are being foolish."

"Can't fight that. Common sense would brand me reckless."

Ron wasn't sure but he imagined he heard a chuckle.

"Clay McBride and Johnny Bull must have dragged every bad egg in town out here with them. How many vagrants you reckon are still out there?" asked the bounty hunter from an unknown location.

"Not sure but I figure I evened the odds some."

"Same here, I got a question for you Scarecrow"

"Call me Ron. I'll call you Felix"

Pause

"How can you shoot so precisely while moving around like that? I see you prancing out there like a deer and I can't savvy it at all."

"The long and short of it is ever since I was child I was never one to stand in place for long. I reckon the only time I do stand still for long these days is during a shootout. Now sitting and laying down well there ain't enough hours of the day for those two."

"To be honest it appears a tad foolhardy to me. Find good ground or good cover, square my back up, take a good stance and take aim. That's how I fight."

"I never took you for a traditionalist Felix; I could have sworn you weren't moving around cause of your leg" Ron said matter-of-factly. His tone was void of even a hint of teasing.

There was another pause that was eventually broken by another chuckle. "You thought wrong then. I am a simple man of simple ideals."

"I'll say this, you are precise with that revolver of yours. As accurate a shot from some distance I have ever seen from a man."

"So standing still or moving we're thinning their ranks can't be much of those back shooters left now" Felix replied.

Ron peeked from behind his tree. "Hello out there! I want y'all to know I've no quarrel with you. There don't need to be any more blood split. What's say we let bygones be bygones?"

The answer to his question turned out to be a string of obscenities that managed to turn his cheeks red.

"I would kindly ask you boys to keep my mother out of this---" moving quickly Ron abruptly turned the corner of the tree he used as cover. He came face to face with a sneaking bushwhacker. Working only on instinct he shot the sneaking bushwhacker in the middle of the chest before the man could react. "---but I reckon you fellas decided there ain't no more discussin' to be done."

Three quick shots in his general direction forced Ron to drop to the ground and roll for dear life. Bullets' kicked up dirt around him until he found safety behind a log. Ron returned fire and a bullet chipped the bark an inch above his head while another knocked dirt up into his face.

Crack, crack, crack

With the sudden addition of supporting fire from Felix the amount of bullets flying in Ron's direction decreased greatly. The situation becoming much more manageable, Ron rolled out of his hiding place and onto his feet.

Manageable, but still far from entirely pleasing.

He came up to his feet and found himself staring down Clay McBride and two lackeys. There was a moment of hesitation as each man wondered what would come next. Then just as expected all hell broke loose. Ron fired and a hole appeared on the forehead of the man to the right of Clay. The man to Clay's left attempted to fire but he suddenly staggered and fell onto his back with Felix's lead now adding to his overall weight. His face contorted in anger Clay leveled his rifle. Ron and Felix's weapons roared at the same time; Clay slammed backwards into a tree and slumped against it.

His ears ringing, Ron breathed in and out rapidly, at times he drew in some of the gun smoke lingering in the air.

"Is he dead?" Felix asked as he stepped up beside him.

"Either that or he's the most relaxed man I've ever seen in my life" Ron answered.

"That was dreadfully unnecessary," Felix announced.

After letting the entire event sink in, Ron turned his eyes from the bodies on the ground to Felix.

"I think that was the last of those back shooters."

Felix nodded. "We did what we had to."

"I'd like to thank you for helping me back there," Ron smiled. "Know that I am obliged."

"Yes, however before you become too grateful…" Felix whipped up his revolver and aimed at Ron.

At exactly the same moment Ron swiftly brought his revolver up at Felix. They thumbed back their hammers, the tips of the revolvers in kissing distance of their respective faces. It was a standoff.

"I wager this is the end of, _us_?" Ron said.

"The way I see things," Felix said. "You either have one bullet left or you have none. Depending on which, either we both die or you die alone."

"Or we can come to a peaceful agreement, as a change of pace" Ron suggested.

* * *

A/N Ok hopefully you enjoyed it. (hee hee cliffee) Part two and the last act of this arc will come very soon (it's in the beta stage) I know Felix's back story may have irritated some. But I felt his motivations needed to be explained. Read, review, suggest, complain. Give me it all. Feedback could actually make the updates come out sooner.

Oh and Fannie watch (wink wink) I know I've had a lackluster year in 08 but keep me in consideration yall. I've got my eye on the Best K/R award (check out my profile for a little info)

**Chap 6 revision**

_**"I'm afraid it's true. Bad smash, you just missed being club-footed."**_

**It was a freak accident, the horse was sick and it collapsed on top of him. Some say he was lucky to have survived. He didn't see it that way. **

**For the second time in his life Felix felt helpless. ****From the second floor window of his hotel, Felix Renton watched as his friend squared off in the middle of the street. The clouds were slate gray in the night sky, rain was coming. **

**"Goose is dead he gave you up before he died." ****Ron said through the bandanna that covered his face up to his eyes**

**"Doesn't surprise me. Goose was the redemption seeking type" Shem**** offered a weak smile. **

**Ron didn't make a move as he stared Shem**** down, the gun game wasn't only about speed and accuracy, there was a mental aspect to it. Everyone knew a scared man couldn't shoot straight.**

**"Let's get to it," Shem said as lightning streaked across the sky.** "**Start counting." **

"**One…"**

"**Two…" **

**"Three--"  
**

**Shem**** attempted to draw to no avail. He saw Colt come up from Ron's holster, a mix of metal and gleaming moonlight; then he saw the explosion from the gun barrel and he felt the impact of the bullet raise him up and backwards.**

**"Dammit boy so fast. You much come straight outta hell." Shem said his lips bloody with a pink ooze. "I'm sorry kid"**

**"What?" Ron said incredulously.**

**"You don't have to forgive me. I just needed to say it."**

**Ron swallowed the lump in his throat "You got kin I should notify?"**

**"That's right decent of you. More than I deserve I suppose. However I burnt all them bridges long ago" Shem took in a ragged breath. Then he shuddered, closed his eyes and dies without saying under word**

**Ron took one step forward. He took another step before he lost it and threw up.** "**Dammit Murdoch, I thought you said it would get easier." He heaved again. **

**He wiped the morning's breakfast from his mouth with one sleeve, and his tears with the other. He glanced at the body once and shuffled past it. He staggered across the boardwalk when he heard the sound of shuffling feet, then the faint click of hammer being cocked. He turned quickly recognizing a threat immediately.**

**His Colt came up from the holster so fast; it startled Felix, even though he had Ron in his sights. **

**Two shots fired, the first shot whizzed past Ron's head knocking his hat off. The second shot smacked into Felix's shoulder knocking him back into the dirt street.**

**Felix groaned and rolled in the dirt. **

"**Who are you?" Ron said as he cocked his pistol again, letting Felix hear it.**

"**You… killed Shem****… you" he coughed "… you killed him!" **

**Ron turned back to Shem****'s body. "I reckon you don't want to hear what your friend did." **

**Felix reached for the Navy Colt he was carrying, but Ron kicked the gun away.**

"**Sorry, I can't get give you second chance…" **

**Felix rolled onto his stomach. "I'm sorry Shem****… if it wasn't for my damn leg… I'm useless."**

**If one was to survive as a gunmen for long, one would learn quickly that it was unwise to leave anyone alive who could come back after you thirsty for vengenace. Ron aimed the Colt at Felix's head, but held the pose for a minute or so. **

**Suddenly from the darkness, Seth Beechum appeared with two horses. "What's taking so long?" **

"**You better kill me," Felix gasped. "If you don't, I swear I'll hunt you down like a dog." **

**Ron didn't move.**

"**What are you waiting for?" **

**Ron looked into Felix's face. "Because he was a killer, I killed Shem****, because I killed Shem****. You want to kill me; I'm wondering when will it end?" He holstered his Colt after another pause.**

"**What are you doing?" Felix shouted when Ron made a move to leave. He grabbed him by the foot. "I don't cotton to charity damn it! Why won't you shoot, because I'm a cripple?"**

**Ron pulled his foot away. "Why would I want to waste a bullet on a back shooting coward like you?" Even in the darkness, he could see the shock on Felix's face.**

**Seth and Ron mounted their horses. "So Scarecrow, are we leaving now?" **

"**First I reckon we have to wake up the town doctor." He turned to Felix and pulled off his bandanna, revealing his face. "When you're ready to come at me face to face, than come and find me. I'll be waiting." **


	13. Unforgiven part 2

A/N Alright I'm back in record time (for this story anyway) So yeah the end of the arc. It's been a long time coming. So let's get right into it.

* * *

"I'm not sure if you can recall everything since you were so young at the time. When we migrated to this town we traveled some distance with another family."

James continued to talk as Kim placed her hand in the box and examined its contents. She found various trinkets of all kinds. Recipes written on yellowed pieces of papers, sewing needles, charms, a deck of cards, and inexpensive colorful stones that had been exchanged. Kim's fingers swept over all these things but they stopped over one object in particular. She fished it out of the box and studied it carefully.

"It all came quickly to me after I found the box. I feel ashamed that I couldn't place his face sooner. The Stoppables were good people, salt of the earth."

Kim traced her fingers along the arrowhead necklace. "The Stoppables are gone. Ron's all alone."

She attempted to place the necklace over her head but she quickly realized it could no longer fit. She stared down at it for a moment before placing it back in the box.

"Yes that is a terrible shame---"

"Father," Kim interjected. "Can you excuse me for a moment?"

By the time James could nod in response Kim had already brushed past him and was on her way to the door.

"No worries, I'll just wait right here," James called out after her.

With that said he took a seat at the bar and began to comb through the box. Eventually James would look up at Monique.

"She is long gone isn't she?"

"I'd be amazed if she could be found in town" Monique replied.

James sighed "she wouldn't just rush into a dangerous situation would she?"

XXXXXXXXXXXX

They moved about in a circular motion. Similar to partners twirling along the dance floor they moved in perfect unison.

"We've been at this for a long, long while Felix. If we stop right now can make it back in time for dinner. There's a nice little restaurant in town with a very good menu."

"I'll be honest Crow, the man I thought you to be turned out to be a mirage" Felix interrupted. "But Shem was my friend and you are his murderer."

Ron shook his head "you don't have to do this."

"Why shouldn't I?"

Each step taken by one was then mirrored by his opponent.

"Answer my question 'fore this bullet leaves this revolver" Felix demanded.

"Felix, they took everything away from me."

"I won't lie I am sorry for your loss, I'm not an unsympathetic man. But Shem didn't put any lead into your family. Rooster Coover killed your father, and he went on to your mother and sister. I've done the research I know."

"He was there!" Ron firmly replied. "They attacked the town I lived in; they killed and robbed whoever they could. They were thieves, murderers and worse. My family…those townsfolk never harmed anyone. I can understand avenging your friend but Shem was in the wrong."

"That's what you do not understand. Shem had changed. He was a different man than the one who raided that town. He was a kind man and he was like kin to me. What makes your vengeance any more righteousness than mine?"

Ron's eyes went briefly from Felix to the bodies already on the ground. How many dead men had he seen that were dead because of him?

"It may be surprising to hear this, but I don't believe myself to be a philosophical man by nature. So I can't answer that question for you Felix. I did what I believed to be right, just as you are doing now."

Ron swallowed the cotton in his throat. "That's why I was ready to go down the starry path after my family. Before last night that is."

Felix eyed Ron suspiciously, "before last night? What happened last night?"

Ron's tongue quickly slid over his top lip. "That's none of your business. Just know that I don't figure I'm ready to go anymore."

"It ain't fair y'know. I am in the right, I know I am…"

Ron nodded, "it ain't fair, not on its own it's not. I wish it was fair. I surely do. Cuz if it were fair, I'd be nestled in with my family right now. And I never would have crossed paths with you or your friend. However you are right it ain't fair. People try and make it fair as best they can. Now if you truly believe pulling the trigger makes things fair, then by all means do it.'"

At this point the bounty hunter's face had gone pale. His expression of shock, gave way to anger and then finally uncertainty. He hesitated; the gun trembling in his hand.

"I don't know anymore."

Their eyes met and held for a long time. Then Felix shocked Ron by lowering his weapon. A grim smile came to his face "I believe I've lost my resolve, it--"

Felix was mid sentence when Ron's eyes went wide as saucers. With unexpected swiftness, Ron pushed Felix's revolver to the side with his hand and then shoved him to the ground with his forearm. Staring past the fallen bounty hunter Ron brought up his revolver and pulled the trigger.

A shot rang out.

But it hadn't come from Ron. A few seconds before the shot had been fired, the hammer of Ron's revolver had landed on an empty chamber with an unsatisfying click.

The bullet had come from behind a tree and its impact caused Ron to double over at the waist. He tried to reach for his second Colt but his hands were frozen in place clutching at his bloody stomach.

Tears sprang in Ron's eyes as he forced himself to turn to Felix and mutter the words, "run!"

Felix attempted to scramble to his feet. But his leg injury kept him from moving as swiftly as the situation demanded.

"Not so fast invalid, I got the drop on you."

Felix glanced up to see Johnny Bull with a pistol in one hand and the other over the bleeding hole in his shoulder.

"Hold on now what am I saying? Fast ain't exactly part of a cripple's vocabulary."

Felix glared at the man, "maybe you want to test how fast my draw is Johnny. That is if you have the sand to face me on my feet with a gun in my hand."

"Shut your mouth bounty hunter. This is my time to celebrate. Scarecrow's shot up and you ain't in no prime position to do anything," he aimed for Felix's head.

Felix's face flushed with anger. Meanwhile Ron slid a hand under his shirt and placed it on his belly. Removing his hand he found it running with blood.

"When word gets out I killed you and Scarecrow, no one will ever insult me again."

Lying on the ground holding his stomach, Ron looked up just as El Diablo's front legs come down hard on a fallen branch near his head. Four legs on the ground the horse broke into a full gallop right at Johnny Bull. Johnny was momentarily stunned, but recovered quickly. He swung his pistol towards the new threat. An instant before he fired, The Stranger swung to the left side of the saddle. Johnny missed, but not The Stranger who fired a dart from his arm while hanging one handed from the horses' neck. The dart struck the man in the chest, and by the time he looked back at The Stranger, drool was already dribbling from his mouth. He collapsed a moment later.

When Felix managed to get back onto to his feet he discovered to his dismay that The Stranger was riding down hard on him. "Aww hell," he muttered as The Stranger leaned out of the saddle and shoved a boot into his face.

In the meantime Ron had crawled towards a tree stump and he painfully struggled to a sitting position. "Ki…I mean Stranger."

"Ron!" The Stranger dismounted and rushed to his side. "Are you alright?"

"Contrary to what you may see I'm fine." He smiled turned grim when The Stranger took notice of his bloody shirt. "Well to be honest I do feel a slight pinch around my stomach region. Might be something I ate."

"This no time for fooling around," The Stranger scolded.

Hearing loud groans coming from a certain bounty hunter the masked hero snapped back into a fighting pose.

"Don't beat up on him any more," Ron told The Stranger.

"Why not? He's been trying to kill you….and you're hurt"

Though his body was racked with pain Ron shook his head. "No, this wasn't his doing, not that he didn't try."

The Stranger turned away from Felix, who was currently spitting blood, and knelt beside Ron. The genuine concern in the hero's eyes somehow eased Ron's pain.

The Stranger reached for Ron's clothes, "sit back a bit I need to take some of your clothes off."

Ron was taken aback, "mow hold on I--I have to take off my clothes?"

"Yes that is what I said. I need to see the full extent of the wound. What is the problem?" The Stranger asked.

"You shouldn't get to familiar-like with me you'll be scandalized."

Though he attempted to fight the hero off, The Stranger began to pry strips off clothing from his body.

"Are you addled? I'm trying to save your life. Besides I've already see you without your clothes, remember that."

"Yeah but that was before we…its different now dang it" Ron stopped when he saw Felix looking on. 'Now wait a minute I know that sounded odd" he coughed.

"It's alright" Felix said. "I know of men who engaged in shall we say unnatural affairs. It does not matter to me."

"The problem at hand is that it matters to me."

"Stop moving around, do you not realize you are bleeding to death!" The Stranger shouted, the hero's voice suddenly cracked for the very first time. The Stranger attempted to reach under his shirt but Ron stopped the hero's hand.

"I got it in the gut. I've seen this happen to other men, it's far from pretty."

The stranger froze "It can't...."

Felix wiped blood from his swollen lip. "That bullet was meant for me, the least I could do is help."

He placed two fingers into his mouth and whistled loudly. To Ron and The Stranger's surprise Felix's horse trotted through the forest towards them."

"Did you see that? He called his horse with a whistle."

"Ron this is also no time to be fascinated. You need to save your strength and you need to let me see that wound."

Felix made a beeline to his horse "gut shot or not I've got some emergency supplies in my saddle bag. At the very least I can ease the pain."

"See, I told you he wasn't all that bad," Ron's jaw was tight and his breath hissed its way through clenched teeth.

"Keep it together now. You are going to be fine." The Stranger told him.

Ron chuckled to himself as he came to the realization that perhaps he was being too greedy. He got to keep his promise to his parents, but there was nothing to say that he deserved to keep his promise to Kim. You don't always get what you want, that was a lesson he should have realized from the very beginning. He lifted his head intending to apologize but the ground suddenly rushed up to meet him. Before he knew it he was lying on his side with his face in the dirt.

"Ron!" The Stranger shouted out.

He was barely hanging on to the little bit of reality he could grasp. Dead men from his past lined up before him staring him down.

Ron heard The Stranger shout, he saw Felix move towards him with the saddlebag. And then he saw nothing at all.

XXXXXXXXXXX

As he listened to the crackle of a fire close by, Will Du peeled a green apple with his knife and shoved white slices into his mouth. He inhaled deeply and took in the scent of fresh boiling coffee. It would have been a peaceful day Will thought, if it weren't for certain factors. He glanced past the fire and watched as Seth enthralled Veronica with outlaw tales.

"So there we were holed up in this bank surrounded by Texas Rangers."

"Surrounded?" Veronica exclaimed. She had given the outlaw her complete and undivided attention.

"If I'm lying I'm dying! Right then and there I knew I should have never let that lunkhead Gill plan a robbery. But everyday it was 'let me plan the next one.' We give him one chance and we end up surrounded."

"What happened?" Veronica inquired.

"Well Gill he panics. He grabs one of the females who was working at the bank. He points a revolver at her head, and goes on about how we should tell the rangers if they don't let us go we'll start gunning women."

"How terrible!" Veronica declared.

"Scarecrow stepped up and tried to talk some sense into Gill. You should know Gill and Scarecrow had bad blood from day one. Or at least Gill had the bad blood. He was always staring daggers at Scarecrow's back. Anyhow, I say to that fool Gill 'that's the difference between a penitentiary stint and a hanging.' But he's not listening to me anymore, he's hollering at Scarecrow about how 'this was his plan and he'd do as he pleased.' With the revolver still at the woman's head he thumbs the hammer back. Suddenly Scarecrow, who before then would always let Gill have his way around him, whips out his piece and aims it at Gill. Hick Kane who was good friends with Gill at that point aims his pistol at Scarecrow, I draw my Colt and point it at Hick. Even J.T Henry who was the boss couldn't get us to lower out weapons. Now just when things were about to get ugly real fast, someone shouted 'I got an idea.'"

"What did you all do?"

"You have sand Seth," Will Du snapped. "But you should know boasting about your crimes in front of a lawman is a sign of foolishness."

Seth simply shrugged, "I'm just entertaining the lady. Besides I don't see the twinkle of that badge on your person anymore. I reckoned you quit."

"Put your mind at ease Beechum, I am a lawman through and through with or without the badge."

"Lawman or not, you're fetching yourself another punch in the nose. I ain't Sheriff Towers I won't be so lenient with my whippings."

Will snickered, "come over and try it Beechum. I've been looking for the opportunity to knock you into a cocked hat."

"Fellows mind your tempers" Veronica chided.

Seth smiled "seeing how the _lawman_ here is out on the prod. I'll use the time to relieve myself. Hopefully when I come back he'll have settled down some."

Seth rose to his feet and slowly shuffled off into the forest.

"No funny business out there Beechum. No, on second thought do try something. I'd love nothing better than to drag you back to camp hogtied."

Seth answered Will's threat with a loud snort.

Veronica sighed loudly as she looked over to Will. "You could have let him finish the story."

"I recommend you be careful around him Miss Walton. He may be our guide but he's a criminal. His kind wouldn't spit on you if you were on fire."

"But he's helped us out considerably. Without his help we wouldn't have known that Middlewood is in the shadow of Denver."

"I'm sure sooner or later I would have figured it on own my own" Will replied.

Veronica shook her head. "You have a hard time trusting people don't you Mister Du?"

"Ma'am I don't trust my revolver. That is why I carry spares."

"P'shaw!" Veronica rose to her feet; with her personal bag in hand she took a seat beside Will. "Well I want you to trust me so from now on there won't be any secrets between us."

She removed the arrowhead necklace from her bag "I will now tell you why I am after the outlaw Scarecrow."

XXXXXXX

He found himself lying in the middle of a vast open prairie under a sky the color of cyan. Ron was on his back, blades of grass were being swept on him by a cold soaring wind, and his belly was on fire.

"I figured if I waited just a little longer you'd show your face."

"Murdoch is that you?"

Murdoch sat on an old decaying stump. He ran his fingers along his bushy mustache. "When last I checked I was me."

"I'm gut shot Murdoch. I did not expect it, not to be shot like that."

"Yep. you're shot up good, drenched in blood all your own." Murdoch removed a long flask from his vest and drank deep from it.

"Let's go over what just happened to you boy. In a situation with many enemies you failed to kill one. You left this enemy alone, you forgot about the enemy, figured he was no longer a threat and then you allowed yourself to be shot while saving another enemy."

"See when you lay it out like that Murdoch you make me sound beef-headed."

Murdoch placed his hands over his face, "in ten minutes you unlearned everything I taught you, this is why you got shot boy."

"I cannot believe I can still be scolded even when I'm dead."

"You figure you're dead eh?" Murdoch said.

"If not dead then close to it, for one thing I'm talking to you, there's hellfire raging in my belly, and there are those interesting characters up there." Ron watched the sky where vultures glided like kites. He sighed, "whoever said dying was easy obviously never got killed Murdoch."

"It doesn't have to be like this y'know."

"Can I see my family now?"

Murdoch tsked sadly, "didn't you hear me; I just said it doesn't have to be this way."

"I tried Murdoch. I've tried so hard to get away. It's like five steps forward and ten steps back all the time. I just want…I want to see my family. I want to see them again. I want to tell them I love 'em...I want them to tell me that I......"

"You want them to tell you what?"

Ron kept his words to himself

"That's understandable, a normal reaction." Murdoch crossed his right leg over his left. "However I wager your family wouldn't want to see hide nor hair of you for a long time."

Ron raised his head, "you're right. I suppose they wouldn't recognize a killer as their family member."

"You know how I feel about people putting words in my mouth. Now why would you claim such a thing?"

Ron turned his head to look at Murdoch, "since Felix showed up…actually no, I've been thinking this for awhile now. I might be no better than those I've killed. Maybe I've just been luckier, but I've killed just the same, there ain't no difference in my actions."

The old man gunfighter rose to his feet and walked over to Ron's body. He looked over at Ron for a moment, before deftly tapping Ron's stomach with his boot.

The pain caused Ron to scream out in horror. "Why would you do that Murdoch?" he groaned.

"I wanted to get your attention. I've got something important to say." He cleared his throat dramatically. "You're a damn fool. Forgetting about the numerous acts of self defense out in the badlands, you know there are men who circumstances cause them to walk down a dark path. Some had a choice some didn't; men have various reasons to pick up a gun. However there are those who are closer to dangerous animals then men. There's no sense of right or wrong in them. They figure it's their divine right to prey on the weak, and everyone but themselves falls under the blanket of weak. They will kill any man, woman, or child without a second thought."

The elderly gunslinger sighed. "I ain't gonna stand here and tell you that you've done right. You know my stance on justice and there are plenty of folks, specially preachers out there who will tell you different. But you're a fool if you're going place yourself in the company of the men you've done the good service of ridding this world of…..men like that they don't know the meaning of the word mercy and they sure as hell don't expect it or neither are they grateful for it when they get it."

"What about Shem O Neil Murdoch?"

"Well boy there is a little matter of punishment for past sins."

"That's what I'm talking about Murdoch.....punishment for past sins."

"Those men you killed would strike down an innocent just as easily as they would take in a breath of air. Ask yourself this, how many _innocent_ people have you come to harm?"

"Felix said Shem changed."

"Like you said boy, past sins, he and his gang started something and you finished it."

A warm breeze tugged at Ron and the air was fresher than he could have ever imagined. "I wanted you to meet someone. Her name is Kimberly Possible. She also goes by the handle of The Stranger on occasion."

Murdoch walked back towards the stump and sat down. "I know her. Unlike you, I _have _been paying attention to the goings on around you."

"Wonderful gal, as frightful as a cougar sometimes, but she's more unique than any other female I've ever met" Ron told Murdoch.

"Sounds like a grand friend."

"Yessum"Ron exhaled loudly. "Though the friendship, well it confuses me at times…"

"How so?"

"There's something 'different' about it. It…seems like it gets more and more different every day."

Ron paused for a very long time. "I'm going to have to hold off on seeing my family Murdoch. Not until I figure this thing out. Also I promised….I got a story tell and a man has to keep his promises does he not?"

"Indeed" Murdoch announced as a saddled horse approached him.

Murdoch grabbed the horse by the reins. "I waited around this long to tell you this. When you were young, you saw the world through your father's eyes, what he wanted and his happiness. Rooster Coover took that happiness away from you. I found you and together we created Scarecrow. Then you spent time seeing the world through Scarecrow's eyes. You knew what he wanted and what brought him happiness. After you killed Coover you went right back to your father eyes or rather Ron Cooley. When convenient, the cold faced, devil may care, dueling rouge known as Scarecrow emerged."

Murdoch mounted the horse. "The question is what the hell does Ronald Stoppable want?"

"I don't want to die Murdoch" Ron answered. "Not no more. But I don't know what to do next. What do I do Murdoch?"

"You live, that's what you do. You live as best you can. I recall when you first told me you wanted to be a gunfighter. I told myself ain't no way a kitten heartened greenhorn like yourself would ever survive a day in the badlands."

"You sure know how to cheer a man Murdoch."

"There's nary been a time......nary been time I've been happier to be wrong. You got all the tools of the trade I had but I reckon you could be more of man than I have ever been. I never thought I'd say this to a gunfighter kid, but don't let your talent go to waste. You're my legacy……..and I'm proud of ya"

Teary eyed Ron turned his head towards his mentor "thank you sir…for everything."

"I'm proud of ya but you're still a plumb fool. If you are going to ignore everything I taught you then you will need someone to cover your backside. Don't leave yourself exposed unless you are really itching to die."

Murdoch gigged his horse into a slow trot.

"Murdoch, where are you going?"

"North, I don't know how far this trail goes but I figure its time I go look for Rosa."

"Will you come back?"

"Kid, maybe where I'm going there ain't no coming back." Timothy Murdoch touched his hat "I hope to see you around Ronald Stoppable, but not for awhile."

"Goodbye Murdoch" Ron watched as his mentor rode off and vanished into the sweeping dust.

XXXXXXX

Shego walked into the camp, shoving rounds into her rifle as she went. She strolled past two withering men on the ground. The man to her right called her very bad name names as he clutched his ruined leg. The man on her left reached for a derringer located behind his belt buckle. Swiftly, and nonchalantly Shego kicked the weapon from his hand. Walking away from the wounded men she picked up a wooden bowl from the ground. She rinsed it out with her own canteen of water; before filling it with coffee from a black pot that had been sitting beside the fire built by the two men.

"Who the hell are you?" The man on the right gasped through the searing pain.

"I'll ask the questions here," Shego took a sip of coffee, grimaced, and then reluctantly took another. "I know you two are part of the posse being led by Sheriff Towers. Seems like he lost his prey, what happened?"

Both men cussed at her.

Shego smiled, "you boys sure have a limited vocabulary. That doesn't make for proper conversation."

The man on the right groaned in pain. "For a woman you're the meanest cur I've ever seen. Here we are dying and you are standing there making coffee and snickering at us."

"Hell, what do you want me to do? Kiss your wounds and make it better! Besides you ain't dying your friend is. I figure if _you_ can get yourself up on your horse and ride to the nearest town in time. You might make it out just fine…..might."

Shego took a long sip from the bowl before throwing it and its contents over her shoulders in disgust.

"It didn't have to come to this; if you had surrendered peacefully yall would have just been tied up." She pointed to the man to the left. "If he didn't try to shade me I wouldn't have had to let fly. Hell I might even be able to argue self defense."

The man on the left cursed out loud again before he drew in a sharp breath. Then he slumped back and did not move.

"He's dead ain't he?" The remaining man said sadly.

Shego shrugged "looks to be so."

"You're the coldest woman I've ever seen in my life."

"Not as cold as your pard there." Shego gestured towards the man's bleeding leg. "Now I reckon a question was asked, less you want to bleed to death, you best start talking."

Minutes later Shego was riding hard through the open plains. According to the man she had left behind Towers had lost Miss Walton's bunch around Eagle Gap Valley. Shego was vaguely familiar with that area. If she remembered correctly beyond the valley was Black Rock River and a little known outlaw trail that led to the mountains. It was highly likely that Sheriff Towers being a lawman was unaware of this trail. Knowing now that Miss Walton had been involved in a prison breakout, Shego felt it was safe to assume that she was being guided by the outlaw. This person knew his way around the countryside and would lead the group over the mountains into Colorado.

Shego considered going up the trail after them but quickly decided against it. Attempting to sneak up on them without being seen might be more trouble than it was worth. Now if she knew anything about city bred women, Miss Walton would be tired of the saddle and would be seeking the comfort of the trains in Denver. If not for that they would likely go to Denver to resupply. No she'd go around the mountain. One person on a very good horse could cover more ground than four people on a mountain trail. Riding hell for leather and with luck she'd get to Denver before them. She'd lay up in town and grab the wealthy heiress at her leisure.

"Seems simple enough," she told her herself.

But then a thought occurred to her. It shocked her to the core that she had forgotten the unpleasantness that awaited her in the city.

_Denver_

"Damn it all. Maybe that fool Hector will be away on business."

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

He's coming to. His eyes are opening."

_Kim's voice._

Ron drifted back to consciousness; he saw feminine features on an oval blur hovering over him.

"What-What happened?" He said as his eyes attempted to pierce through the dim light of the room

"You are a lucky man Mister Stoppable," Anne said as she stood over Ron's cot.

He raised his head off of thecot pillow long enough to look down at the multiple thick white bandages wrapped around his waist. He quickly recognized that they were in one of the back rooms of the doctor's office.

"No offense Missus P but the lucky people in this room are the ones who haven't been shot."

Anne smiled, "well it might be you're not looking at it from the doctor's point of view." She reached over and picked up the belt Ron had given been given for his birthday and held it out for him to see. Part of the buckle had been flattened and mangled by Johnny Bull's bullet.

"Uh ma'am? I'm not in the right state of mind to understand what that means. Can you explain it to me?"

"If this hadn't deflected the bullet and split it in two we wouldn't be here talking. A solid bullet would have torn up your insides. The broken up bullet in the simplest terms just nicked your insides some. You've been cut deep but nothing vital was damaged. As I stated you are a lucky man."

A wave of pain caused Ron to collapse back onto the pillow.

"My momma did say I was born under a lucky star" he moaned. "Oh mercy I'm never going to get used to being shot."

"The pain must be hard on you," Kim commented.

"KP, you've never spoken a more natural fact in your life."

"I'm here to help," Anne stepped forward with a long steel hypodermic syringe. "I'll just inject you with this."

"Inject?" Ron muttered nervously as Anne held his arm in place.

"Do not worry it's something to ease the pain. Besides you've lost a lot of blood and you need rest to replenish it."

It was then that she noticed Ron's fidgeting. "Come now, three days ago you had bullets flying at your head. Don't tell me _this_ has gotten you agitated?"

"Can you blame me ma'am? I'm a bit wary of more metal piercing my skin."

Ron shut his eyes as the sharp needle slid into his arm and Anne plunged the syringe. She smiled, pulled the needle from his arm and placed a strip of gauze on it. She patted his arm, "there that wasn't so bad."

"Missus P, I reckon you're not looking at it from my point of view" Ron protested. "Hold on, did you say three days? I've been knocked out for that long?"

"For most of those three days" Kim replied. "You've actually awoken at least four times before. But when you go back to sleep you forget everything that happened."

"I'll be honest, that does not sound encouraging. Is that a problem Missus P?"

"It's a normal reaction from the medicine. It will take some time but you'll be back in good condition. In all honesty it might be better that you don't remember what happened when we had to help you… "Anne let her words trail off.

"Help me what?" Ron felt panic come over him. "The outhouse? Did I have to use the outhouse? Oh no you didn't help me use the outhouse did you?"

Anne waved her hand in the air dismissively, "oh don't take on so, it wasn't too difficult for us."

"Us?" Ron's eyes went to Kim then back to Anne. "Us as in you and the doctor right Missus P?" He turned back to Kim. "That's what she means right?"

Kim quickly glanced over at her mother, "she's just teasing you Ron. You are teasing, right mother?"

"Of course Ronald, I apologize but your reactions are so delightful." Anne chuckled before sighing contently to herself, "I have to check on some supplies I'll be back in a few minutes."

Anne continued chuckling as she walked out of the room.

"Kim, your ma was pulling my leg ri…." Ron stopped when he felt a sensation that was akin to a silk blanket slowly covering his entire body. "I feel so gloriously warm now."

Kim nodded to herself, "that'll be the medicine taking effect. I estimate it'll be about ten minutes before you are asleep again."

"Hmmm," Ron hummed as he rode the wave of relaxation. The new sensation felt like a godsend compared to the pain he was in before.

He smiled brightly, "KP, remind me when I get better to thank The Stranger for saving my hide out there. I am obliged to _him_."

"I am sure he is already aware of your feelings."

Ron enjoyed a few minutes of basking in his relief before suddenly blurting out, "Felix?"

"He's still in town. Spends most of the time in his room but I did run across him in the café yesterday staring down into a tiny mirror."

"Is that so?"

"You might find it interesting to know that the bounty hunter put some shallow dressings on your wound back in the forest and then helped The Stranger get you back into town."

"Well I am obliged to him too then."

"It just so happens I've come to learn from him that you got hurt saving him from a bullet in the back."

"The way I see it, no one deserves to get shot in the back." Ron's eyes closed for a second before quickly fluttering open "Blamhammer? Did he get his story?"

Kim moved away from Ron and placed a white rag into a bowl of water. "Funny thing that. Johnny Bull and his gang found Blamhammer before they ambushed you and Felix. They roughed him up a bit and tied him to a tree. Seeing how he claimed to be a famous author from the east they were going to hold him for ransom after they killed you. The sheriff found him the morning after the ruckus in the woods"

"I bet he's down about missing the festivities," Ron sighed

"I don't imagine the lack of an eyewitness account will keep him from his ambitions," Kim said.

"About the ruckus in the woods…you…I'm sure you heard about it."

Kim placed the cool damp rang on his forehead. "I did" she said simply.

"And…?"

"Clearly this is not the time for a discussion; you need to concentrate on healing right now."

Ron fought off his heavy eyelids. "I confess my past was far from….what one would call 'innocent.' But a lot of good depended on my success. I can do……I feel I can still be a good man."

"Ron," Kim took the rag off his forehead, "you're already a good man."

He was silent for a moment.

"You say that not knowing exactly what I've done."

"I say that knowing exactly what you've done since I've known you."

There was comfort in her words. Ron found himself relaxing in different way one beyond that of the wondrous drug Missus Possible had given him. He was finding a peacefulness that he hadn't felt in years.

"I'll say this," she stopped and Ron sensed a moment of hesitation.

"The undertaker hasn't stopped smiling since you arrived."

Initially Ron looked at Kim as if she gone mad. Then he let out a sound that was a cross between a laugh and snort. "Goodness that was morbid."

Kim chuckled lightly, "through no fault of my own. The undertaker happens to be a morbid individual."

Ron grinned, "I have failed to meet an undertaker who wasn't."

Kim then glanced nervously at the floor. "Ron when you are on your feet again there's something important I want to discuss with you."

"I know, I promised I'd tell you about my past. I'm aimin' to keep that promise."

"No, it's not about your past specifically…. But our past."

Ron eyed her questioningly, "what's that?"

"It's that…we'll talk about that later," she dismissed the matter, "as it is, I should leave you to your rest."

She dipped the rag into the bowl again and placed it back on Ron's head. He was on the cusp of consciousness when an odd thought came to his hazy mind. Kim made a move to walk away and he grabbed her gently by the hand.

"I want to tell you something."

"Just let it be for now, we'll talk when you're healed up."

"This is important," he protested with a fading voice. "But I don't know how to say it to make you savvy. My head is all cloudy, I can't think straight."

Kim was clearly puzzled.

A smile she was not familiar with lit his features, "I reckon I have it now. I know what to say" He motioned for her to come closer.

She followed his instructions and immediately his hands came up and framed her face. Slowly he pulled her toward him and lowered her face to his. Surprise was on Kim's face a moment before he brought his lips to hers. When contact was made her eyes closed immediately as did his. This kiss began chastely, tentatively.....until Kim's lips fell open. Proving to be an opportunist Ron's tongue gently and timidly greeted hers. For what felt like hours, they kissed. Eventually she sighed against his lips and he pulled away.

"You savvy?" He asked.

Before she could reply his hands fell from her face, and he drifted off into the dream world. Kim laid his limp hand on his chest. She opened her mouth to speak but nothing came out.

A moment later Anne returned. "How is he?"

"Fine" Kim replied quickly. "He appears much better now."

"That's good news. But I've just gotten some bad news as well. Because of all the bullets that have been flying around lately we're running out of medical supplies." She sighed "we won't get another shipment from Denver for at least a month."

"I'll go." Kim said as she stepped away from the cot.

* * *

A/N Ok kind of short but good enough right?

The next arc will focus a lot more on Kim and "The Stranger" than the previous arc. So you can look forward to that. Plus from now on Ron won't be so darn gloomy. Also Will Du and the gang should get some more time with the ball as well. Ok you know the deal read review. Tell me what you like don't like and offer any suggestions you may have.

Future yvj stuff: Well (so far) I've been snubbed from the K/R cat for the fannies (Gessperken, Wedding Bells, A Lot like Love.......how?) For this injustice XD My next one shot will be an ambitions one and it'll be rock your K/R sox. Well it might. It's based on a story I've really enjoy

If it is a miss it'll be a medicore experimental AU, if it turns out the way I envision it in my head it might _possibly _be the best K/R story I've personally written. So look out for that soon (I can't wait). After I finally polish off Scrooged.


	14. Curiosity

A/N Been a year since the last update. That's not good....I'll have to rectify that mistake. OK transition chapter, new new arc coming towards you. A bit more focus on Kim in the new chapters

* * *

**The town of Harrington: On the border of New Mexico territory and Texas:**

A wicked cut of lightning flashed across the sky, and it was immediately followed by a tremendous clap of thunder. Only one building stood in Harrington, and it was surrounded by dozens of tents held by wooden frames that were just about sturdy enough to stand up to the winds that blew in from the desert. The windows of this building, which happened to be the only saloon for miles, rattled with every blast of thunder. Whenever the wind blew, it kicked up gritty sand that pelted against the windows.

"Gonna rain like a coyote pissing on a flat rock," the saloon's portly bartender declared.

At the end of the bar, Sweet Sally who had been in the process of pouring a drink, glanced up and stared daggers at the bartender.

"S'cuse my language Miss, I forgot you was here" he said.

She rolled her eyes and topped herself off. "He's late," she proclaimed.

The bartender shrugged. "This isn't exactly a social gathering."

Ignoring him, Sally let her eyes wander towards the nearest window.

The bartender coughed into his fist. "You know I never could put a finger on why they call him the 'bard.'"

"Because he sings and tell stories," Sally replied.

She turned to see the blank look upon the bartender's face.

Sally sighed. "In medieval times, when there were knights and such, a bard was hired by the king to tell epic stories and to sing songs about his ancestors. He was like a professional poet."

That bartender nodded. "Oh, I see"

"Sure you do," Sally muttered with a shake of her head. She had gulped down her drink when the sound of thundering hooves broke the silence of the saloon.

"Stage coming!" The bartender announced happily.

"Finally," Sally muttered.

She stared disdainfully at the front entrance until the bat-wings squeaked and the entrance filled up with the form of Jaimie Bennett otherwise known as, "The Bard."

Sally took in Jamie's size. He was an older gentleman, the hair on his head and face were almost all gray. Yet despite his age he was still a fit man with wide shoulders and muscular arms. He came in dressed in a black suit, sparkling white shirt, a black string tie and a standard black hat of the times. And in troubadour tradition, he had a guitar strapped to his back.

Thunder roared in the night sky,

"I suspect there may be a storm coming," The Bard grinned.

"You're significantly late in arriving."

The Bard removed his hat. "Well I apologize mightily for that ma'am. However I was escorted here against my will, so I cannot exactly call this a social gathering."

"That's what I said," the bartender declared.

The comment earned him another dirty look from Sweet Sally. The Bard swaggered over to the bar and Sally sensed danger shrouding the man, though it was a different type of danger than what she was accustomed to with Tobias. She watched as he bellied up to the bar and called for whiskey in a loud tone. The barkeep slid a bottle and shot glass down to him.

"For a hostage you are making yourself fairly comfortable," Sally sneered. "Maybe you should reconsider your position here."

"Come now, Sally. The Bard is far from a hostage." From the shadows of a back room Tobias Coover stepped into the dim lighting of the saloon. "He's a guest."

And as if too emphasize this fact; Tobias strolled into the room apparently weaponless. It was rare for even Sally to see Tobas not in reaching distance of his guns. Tobias tipped his hat to The Bard. "Howdy there old timer, it's been so long. I believe we last crossed paths right before a shootout in Montana….or was that one in Kansas……Either way I'd say it is just about time for us to be reacquainted."

Nonchalantly The Bard fingered his beard. "I tell you it's funny you should mention that. Because that was exactly what I thought right before three or four fine lads cornered me in an alley and offered to guide me in your direction. Now to be honest I had thought it was a peculiar invitation, seeing as how I had heard tell you were dead."

"Rumors and suppositions, my good friend. You of all people should know, it is unwise to believe everything you hear."

The Bard poured himself some whiskey. "Indeed, a man of my advanced age must know how to sift the gold from the muck."

Tobias opened his arms out wide. "Where are my manners, Sally, barkeep, allow me to introduce you to The Bard. This man is a walking library, a wealth of information lies within his head. Legend tells he has some knowledge on every significant event that has happened in the west since the white man crossed the Mississippi."

The Bard laughed. "You flatter me son, but I only recite the tales that are worth telling."

"You don't do yourself justice, Bard. You wander across the land spreading tales of the past and singing songs of current events to all who choose to hear. You sir are a legend in your own right."

Tobias took a seat at the bar beside The Bard.

Sally slammed her fist against the bar. She immediately captured the attention of both men.

"What is the point of all this Tobias? The only reason Payton let us out is because you gave your word to avoid this. In fact we should have been on Major Cole's trail days ago."

Tobias sighed happily. "I am aware of where my duty lays Sally. However I have a pressing concern that weighs heavily upon my mind."

Sally glared at Tobias for a moment before turning away in a huff. "I'll be in the room working on your disguise," with that said she marched into the back room.

"Wonder what that was all about?" Tobias mused aloud.

"Beats me," The Bard said. "You never can tell with women."

Tobias nodded. "Ain't that the truth?"

The Bard brought the glass of whiskey to his lips and paused. "Since she mentioned Peyton, I figure Peyton Dawson is the wizard who resurrected you from the grave."

"The one and only. Mister Dawson and I have big plans. grand plans."

"So the rumors are true then?"

"What rumors?"

"The rumors about a secret outlaw organization, robbing, murdering, and selling weapons to none-to-friendly Injuns."

"Again, rumors and suppositions, Bard. Rumors and suppositions."Tobias made a gesture with his hand and the barkeeper quickly delivered a shot glass. "You know how that goes dont'cha Bard? I've heard some scuttlebutt about you amigo."

"Such as?"

"Oh just a few things, like your former occupation as an emissary for the nation. Things about how you can call in favors from those in the highest seats of our government. That you have a special protected status with the government, which has you just a notch below the President of the United States. Which would explain why, no matter what you know, no one dares lay a hand on you for fear of the army swooping down hawks."

"Supposing that was all the truth and I'm not saying it is. I reckon none of it would deter you from what you have in mind."

"Hardly, as far as the government is concerned I am dead."

The Bard tipped the contents of the shot glass into his mouth. He then let out a deep sigh. "You didn't bring me all this way to try and kill me, did you?"

Tobias met the man's eyes. "Why? Are you looking to die?"

The Bard laughed softly, "I can't say that I am."

"I don't have a reason to kill you Bard. So it's up to you whether or not I discover one."

"Alright Tobias, speak your piece."

Tobias nodded. "My brother Rooster and I were at odds for a number of years. He picked up a jealous streak over the years and he let that get to his head. Still, there are very, very, very few people on this earth that I am genuinely fond of. I mean I still find myself reminiscing about teaching him to shoot."

He chuckled to himself.

"My brother could not achieve the…..efficiency with weapons that came naturally to me. However that did not mean he was slow on the draw. He was as deadly a pistoleer as you could find west of the Mississippi. And he was a natural at using fear as a weapon. He used fear better than God. Men would think twice about bracing my brother, not only for fear of being shot down by him, but a fear of Rooster's reckoning upon everyone who ever had contact with them. He would see to it that their whole families were slaughtered like pigs."

Tobias grabbed the whiskey bottle, poured another shot, and brought the tip off the glass to his lips. "It would take an interesting man to kill my brother."

The Bard bit down on his bottom lip. "I am going to assume that you are looking for the name of the man who killed your brother."

"I know his name for sure. Seeing how my attention was needed elsewhere I had ordered his name to be spread across the west, as the fastest gun alive."

"That's a death sentence for most men."

"Oh for sure, for sure. I will deny my sinister intentions. But the news travels to slow for my liking."

"Is that the reason I am here?"

"Partly…also I am a killer. I kill, and that cannot be denied. But I like to distinguish myself from any ole indiscriminate kill-crazy lunatic like my brother for instance. Hell some men are satisfied pointing a gun out the window and firing. I like to know the men I kill, stare into his eyes, peek into his soul if I can."

He paused for a moment's reflection. "This man has killed my brother; in turn I have now killed him.....indirectly of course. I am somewhat satisfied in those turn of events. Still I cannot shake my overwhelming curiosity. I will not have another moment of restful sleep unless I have an idea of who this man was."

Tobias' razor sharp eyes fell upon The Bard. The outlaw quickly captured the man's gaze.

"Are you familiar with the man who goes by the handle of Scarecrow?"

The Bard was not one to miss out on the subtle options that had just been offered to him. There was a short list of things The Bard was willing to fight and die for. Nothing in this situation was on that list.

"I have crossed paths with a man by that name once or twice."

Tobias' smile went from ear to ear. "To the best of your knowledge, sing me a song, tell me a tale that will sate my curiosity of the man named Scarecrow."

Wordlessly The Bard helped himself to another drink. There was a beat or two before The Bard would nod politely and unstrap his guitar.

"This tune is likely to bring back some memories for you, Tobias."

Tobias watched curiously as The Bard drew a deep breath and began strumming a soft tune.

_"Come listen to a ranger, you kind-hearted stranger  
This song, though a sad one, you're are welcome to hear,  
About a gunslinger without peer and a lad full of fear  
Who followed him far o'er the Western frontier. "_

* * *

**_Four Years and three months ago:_**

_The legend himself, in person, in this cafe!_

_The owner of the cafe froze as still as death when Fast Timothy Murdoch approached. He took in Murdoch's walk. The man moved with the coiled grace of a puma. And heaven knew he wasn't any less deadly._

_"Coffee ready?" Murdoch asked._

_The owner held out a pot he had just carried in from the kitchen. "Here you go sir. May I say that it is an honor to have you here sir. I...."_

_Before the owner could finish, Murdoch had taken the pot and was already heading back to his table. The clerk called for a town local and told the man to spread the news. The "Man who is not afraid" was in town._

_Murdoch took a seat and began to dig into a breakfast that consisted of bacon and eggs. He was pouring himself a refill when the front door banged open and cold air swept into the room. Murdoch did not turn his head to see who it was. He had positioned himself so he could watch the front by using a mirror along a wall in the cafe. If that wasn't enough to keep an eye out for danger, there was the thirteen year old blond boy sitting across from him snacking on a buttered biscuit._

_A pair of cowboys swaggered into the room, both of them wearing two guns._

_"Murdoch," the boy said while looking down at his plate. "I never seen those fellas 'fore but they are paying lots of attention to you."  
_

"_I saw them. It took you long enough to take notice and say something. "_

_"Well, I had a mouth full of biscuit. I had to swallow didn't I?"_

_"You better learn it'll be real hard to swallow when you have a bullet in you," Murdoch said as he took a sip of coffee. "How old do you think they are?"_

_"Young....Early twenties," Ron answered._

_"The worst age. You know what that makes them?"_

_"Trouble hunters?"_

_"Right you are. How does their hardware look?"_

_"Old and dusty."_

_Murdoch nodded. "Young fools, full of piss and vinegar. Trying to prove something."_

_"You think you someone special dont'cha?" One of the men suddenly called out to them._

_Murdoch said nothing._

_"You Timothy Murdoch ain't ya?" The other trouble hunter stated. "The famous gunslinger."_

_Murdoch turned around. "That's right."_

_Sensing a change in the atmosphere the few patrons of the cafe quickly exited the establishment. They left behind the two newcomers, Ron and Murdoch, the cafe owner, and one remaining observer in the back._

_"The name is Hobbes, John Hobbes, I'm sure you've heard of me." The first trouble hunter said._

_"Can't really say that I have boy."_

_The first cowboy pointed to the second. "What about Falcon here? I am sure you've heard of him"_

_Murdoch shook his head. "Can't say that I have son."_

_  
"Well I've been hearing about you all my life Murdoch. I'm sick of it. I sure don't think you have done half of what people say you done._

_Murdoch humored them. "What do they say about me?"_

_"They say you've killed about a thousand men, been wounded over fifty times, been in gunfights all over the world, and were even received in royal courts and knighted by kings and queens."_

_The gunslinger laughed. "I see you've read a couple of the books about me. My piece of advice is to don't believe everything you read."  
_

_"Well I don't think you did anything at all. What do you think about that?" John stated_

_"Go away," Murdoch told the pair. "I don't want any trouble."_

_"Well there you go," John smiled. "A little respect, no one wants to tangle with us."_

_"I'm sure," Murdoch sighed. "Now go away."_

_"Maybe we don't want to go away, maybe we want to stay and chat, Mister 'Famous Gunfighter.'"_

_As the pair giggled Murdoch turned to Ron. "How to you feel?"_

_"Scared?"_

_"Yeah and what does that feeling make you want to do?"_

_"Run?"_

_"Exactly."_

_Suddenly Murdoch sprang to his feet, and let his hand drop to the butt of his revolver. "This is it boys. If you want to slap iron, do it. Do it right now, or shut your damned mouths!"_

_Falcon and Jon turned pale. Suddenly the situation has had lost humor. It had quickly dawned on them they were facing a man who had never been beaten in a gunfight. The pair exchanged quick glances._

_"Easy now Mister," Falcon said. "We was only funnin' with you."_

_"Good thing, I'd hate to have put lead in you boys over some harmless 'funnin.'"_

_"Yeah well...yeah….just funnin," John sputtered._

_Murdoch offered no reply as he stared the two men down. Swiftly the pair began to quickly walk towards the front of the saloon. In no time at all they had shoved their way through the door._

_Quietly the veteran gunfighter returned to his seat. "See in a gunfight you can either survive or die. The person who worries about death even for a second will be crushed."_

_Murdoch pointed to his own eyes. "It's a hard look, a glimpse of death in the eyes. The ability to do that can save you from wasting lead on every no account who acts on impulse. And at the very least, if you happen to be dealing with a bigger fool than usual, even if the man doesn't run, you instill doubt into a man. Doubt leads to hesitation, doubt takes away your focus, doubt will get you killed."_

_Ron licked some butter off his upper lip. "Are you going to teach me to have a scary look like that?"_

_"I don't know if I can, not with them goofy big ears of yours. You'll have an easier time getting people laughing before you can get them scared."_

_With a frown on his face the boy tugged at his ears. "You also gonna to teach me how to be rattlesnake mean like you are?"_

_"That can't be taught boy it can only be learned through experience. But there are some other things I can teach you to keep you from ending up dead."_

_Ron nodded happily. "I would sure dislike ending up dead."_

_"Remember this though..." Murdoch began._

_Ron smacked the top of his forehead. "No, not this again."_

_"There is dead and there is a living death," Murdoch continued. "An empty life, as empty as the grave. A life of always looking over your shoulder, never being able to trust, to care, to love. That is the life of a-,"  
_

_"Again with this speech."_

_Murdoch slammed his hands against the table. "And you'll keep hearing this speech. I'll keep saying it on the off chance that you'll come to your senses!"_

_Ron slammed his hands on the table with considerably less force. "My senses are telling me I want some pie."_

_"In most cases I remain but a simple observer," a man announced from across the room. "However, I cannot remember the last time I saw such skilled execution of intimidation!"_

_Murdoch lifted his cup of coffee in silent acknowledgment._

_"You know that guy?" Ron asked._

_Murodoch sighed. "Funny fella goes by the name of The Bard. I recall seeing him once at Fort Bridger, and again in a town called South Haven."_

_"Ah, my name comes to you. I am honored," The Bard stood up and approached Ron and Murdoch's table with a smile. "Ah yes the shoot-out at South Haven, a classic tale of man and his inner demons, a true morality tale."_

_The Bard reached for the guitar on his back. "Sir it should please you to know, I have captured the essence of the entire situation in song. If you would allow me to enthrall....."_

_"Twas on the twenty-fourth of March I say,  
Bound to the Western Bank on a bright and sunny day:  
The wind was off the land and clear was the sky......"_

_Murdoch raised his hand to cut the man off. "I lived it; I don't need to hear it."_

_"However..." Murdoch's eyes narrowed for a few seconds; that was the only betrayal of his inner emotions. "Kid, wait outside for a second," he said eventually._

_"What?" Ron muttered as he polished off his biscuit. "I was just about to get some apple pie."_

_"Who said you were getting any pie?"_

_"I 'member someone offering me pie."_

_"No, no one said you were getting pie, you wanted pie, but no one here promised you any pie."_

_Ron crossed his arms over his chest. "I'm not leaving this town without some pie."_

_Murdoch ran his right hand across his face. "Alright, you'll get some pie if you wait outside like I asked."_

_Ron nodded and pushed himself away from the table. Then he skipped out the door. Murdoch gestured to the empty seat and The Bard swiftly took Ron's place._

_"Beavers Pass," The gunman spoke the words softly. "Are you familiar with that town?"_

_The Bard shook his head. "A terrible tragedy, perpetrated by a mean gang headed by the foul Rooster Coover, I have a song to commiserate the occasion...."_

_"That won't be necessary," Murdoch stated. "Rooster, do you know anything about his whereabouts?"_

_"Last time I was around the border I had heard he ventured south into Old Mexico. He's likely in the area known as the Badland Hills."_

_"Is that so?"_

_"I know I have no say on where you are headed. But riding into those hills is a good way to get a person killed. The only things there are rattlesnakes, coyotes and outlaws. Not a wanted man? Then you are not welcome there. If you are not a no good son of a gun with a mean streak as long as the horizon then you are not welcome there."_

_Murdoch eyeballed The Bard for several seconds as he seemingly mulled the situation over. "Sounds like a real nice place."_

_"That said, if anyone could ride in there and ride out in one piece it would have to be you Mister Murdoch....you are one of the toughest, hardest men to ever wander the West. And that's not taking into account you being possibly the fastest draw in the west."_

_Murdoch yawned and took another sip of coffee._

_The Bard cleared his throat. "I can sniff out a fine story like a blood hound. And there is a epic brewing right before me. I figure you have a vendetta against Rooster Coover? Did you perhaps have relatives in Beavers pass?"_

_"Not my vendetta, the boy's," Murdoch replied as he pointed over his shoulder. "He'll come to root out Rooster in time."_

_The seriousness in Murdoch's eyes caused The Bard's eyes to widen. "I didn't know you were a joking man Murdoch."_

_"I'm not, I'm just stating a fact."_

_"He is just a boy," The Bard said finally breaking a sullen silence._

_"When the time comes, he'll be a man. And he'll be a better man than me in all aspects. Take that for what it's worth."_

_The Bard leaned back in his chair. "I ought to mention that Rooster has an older brother. Christian name of Tobias Coover but goes by various aliases these days. And though I am not sure of how loyal he is to his brother; I know he has made a name for himself with a revolver."_

_"Good for him," Murdoch replied._

_"There is talk of him being the fastest draw in the west, and there's more talk of him aiming to prove it."_

_The old gunman shrugged. "The very substance of the ambitious is merely the shadow of a dream."_

_The Bard licked his lips and leaned forward in his seat. "You don't understand sir…..I have seen him shoot. The boy can give you a run for your money."_

_"I appreciate the warning," Murdoch nonchalantly declared._

_"Well the thing is...."_

_Murdoch placed his cup of coffee on the table and waited._

_".....He happens to be in town."_

_"Aww, hell!" Murdoch said irritably. "The boy!"_

_With a sigh he got up and marched for the door. He stepped onto the boardwalk just in time to see Tobias face Ron in the middle street. Murdoch looked on in stunned horror as the young gunman drew and pulled the trigger._

_XXXXXXXX  
_

_Click_

_The hammer fell down upon an empty chamber yet Tobias pulled his hand back melodramatically withstanding, a recoil that never came._

_Tobias laughed out loud. "Oh my, what kind of gunslinger forgets to load his gun?"_

_Ron fell backwards onto his rear end with a loud grunt. Six other outlaws on horseback howled with laughter. One of them gigged their horse forward, reached down and grabbed Ron by the collar._

_"Hey consider this your lucky day, you have just survived a gunfight with the best ever to sling lead."_

_"Let him go," Tobias said as he replenished his revolver with bullets before returning it to his holster. His voice was hoarse from laughter._

_"Naw, sir, Tobias," said the outlaw as he roughly pulled Ron up and down by the collar. "Wait till you see this, there ain't nothing funnier than scaring a kid till he pees him---"_

_Before he could finish his sentence, he was on the ground. Using his left hand Tobias drew the revolver from his right holster and snapped off a shot that nicked the outlaws nose sending him tumbling into the dirt._

_"Damn it to hell, I said turn him loose," Tobias said._

_The outlaw reached for his nose. "He's loose Tobias, he's loose! I was just trying to have some fun. I figured it was all right with you."_

_Tobias walked over to and picked Ron off the ground. He then grabbed the boy into a headlock. "I am many things but a child killer, I am not. Don't worry son, I don't take kindly to youngins getting harmed in my presence."_

_Tobias then shrugged casually at his gang. "Though outside my presence, I suppose things can happen that I cannot control."_

_The group tittered with laughter._

_The young gunslinger pulled the boy tighter to him. "I hear tell Fast Timothy Murdoch himself rode into town with a young boy in tow, and I say to myself this is a tactical advantage I cannot pass by."_

_Heavy boots hitting wood caused Ron and Tobias' head to snap towards the source if the sound. They watched as Murdoch slowly made his way onto the boardwalk._

_"Ah here he is the man of the hour. The king of gunslingers! Sir, may I ask how heavy is thy crown."_

_"Too heavy for most men," Murdoch snapped quickly. "I suppose that shooting display was for my benefit."_

_"I do have the habit of playing to the gallery. But allow me to introduce myself. The name is Tobias..."_

_Murdoch's eyes narrowed as he stared daggers at Tobias. "Let him go," he warned._

_"Oh don't worry about the boy he's my guest," Ignoring Murdoch the outlaw turned his attention back to Ron. "He might be a bit skittish but he's no worse for wear."  
_

_Ron trembled against Tobias' body  
_

_"Hey, you scared of me son?" he asked._

_'Yes sir. You are a bad man sir" Ron answered.  
_

_"Now what makes you think that?"_

_"You kill people."_

_Tobias looked out towards Murdoch while he nodded to himself. "I can't argue that. I figure that makes you a bad man too, Murdoch. How many you killed? Hell didn't you kill the entire Pike family by yourself?"_

_"Beside the fact that the Pike clan were a bunch of thieving murders and women violators, everyone knows they declared war on me first."_

_"I recall hearing you cleaved poor Jeb Pike in half with a shotgun."_

_"Jeb was the worst of the bunch. He tortured innocent women and children."_

_"Well excuse me Mister Nobility, but I also recall hearing at the time of his messy 'separation' ole Jeb was unarmed."_

_The entire town fell silent, everyone on the street watched, waiting for any movement from the two gunfighters._

_"I won't tell you again... let the boy go."_

_"Boy?" Tobias hung his arm loosely around Ron's neck, and grinned up at Murdoch. "This here is a bargaining chip."_

_Ron swallowed a dry knot in his throat as he shivered in Tobias' arms._

_Tobias glanced down and gave Ron a curious stare. "I hear your heart beating son, and the fear in your eyes is real familiar."_

_"You turn to me when I'm talking to you!" Murdoch proclaimed._

_Tobias put a hand up in the air. "Hold on, I am feeling a bit of uh what a Frenchmen might call Deja-vu. The way this kid is shivering like, clutching at my leg. Reminds me of something in my troubled past."_

_Quivering in his boots Ron remained silent._

_Tobias smiled down on him. "The world has taken from you hasn't it boy? It has taken a whole lot hasn't it?" _

_With a sharp laugh Tobias reached and poked Ron roughly on the base of his forehead. Ron stumbled backwards._

_"I'll tell you what kid. Here's some advice I gave someone close to me a long time ago. When the world takes from you, you take from it. It ain't fair until you make it fair."_

_"What's you damn game son?" Murdoch asked  
_

_"My game? The game is 'who is the fastest gun in the west' and I aim to play with you."_

_His gaze now on Murdoch, Tobias pointed at Ron. "But we'll play by my rules. A showdown at dawn, we'll drag every man, woman, and child in this town out of a bed and we'll give them a memory that will outlast our very lives."_

_"Do you have any kin, stranger?" A tiny voice squeaked._

_The air immediately changed as Murdoch and Tobias simultaneously looked down at Ron._

_"I was wondering if you had any kin," Ron muttered politely with a crack in his voice. He stood up. 'The polite thing to do is to ask, so we know who is to be notified of your death"_

_"My death!" Tobias threw his head back and hooted. "You damn sure of the old man's skills ain't you?"_

_Ron drew in a deep breath and steadied himself. "I sure am. I am also sure of your skills too. I've seen you shoot twice now."_

_Tobias hesitated, and then said. "Oh really now?"_

_Ron scratched at his forehead. "The second time you drew with your left hand that was to show off and to fool Murdoch. Murdoch came out to late to really see the first time you drew, and anyway he probably concentrated on me because he was worried. He didn't see that you drew with your right hand. You knew there weren't any bullets in the gun but I reckon you were serious on the draw, since it was completely different in form then the second draw, in speed and body movements. I say unless you can draw twice as fast in a shootout as you did when you drew the first time then at best you might be just as fast Murdoch. But Murdoch never, ever misses, so the best you can do, if your aim is a good as his, is hit each other at the same. But you would still most definitely die."_

_"What the hell are you talking about?" Tobias blurted out._

_Ron drew in a quick steady breath._

_"Even at your best you will still die. If you pull on Murdoch you are a dead man," Ron said with his voice as cold as the grave._

_Tobias' gang roared with laughter. However the young gunman stood still as he explored the depths of his captive's eyes._

_"Boy you...."_

_Murdoch abruptly cut him off. "Be a mighty sorry damn day when I let some bloomin' idiot tell me what to do. If its gun-play you all want then grab iron."_

_Tobias glanced at Murdoch. "But my rules--?"_

_"This game ends if I spill lead into you and your pards."_

_Tobia's eyes darted from Murdoch to Ron and back. "What if you hit the boy?"_

_"I only hit what's in my sights." Murdoch replied._

_Tobias spat onto the ground. "My, my, my. Mister 'Fastest Gun in the West' you certainly are a contrary old mule."_

_"After you," Murdoch replied._

_Tobias bit down on his lip before shaking his head. "I offer you the chance to die with some glory and this is the thanks I get?"_

_What happened next did not escape The Bard's notice. Only one with great powers of observation or perhaps a very skilled gunman would have noticed Murdoch's right hand inch closer to the butt of his gun and the subsequent involuntary body twitch that came over Tobias Coover.  
_

_Murdoch smiled. "A curly wolf such as you might not remember. I know it's been awhile for me as well. But that queer feeling you've got right now son, it's got a name. Civilized folk like to call it uncertainty."_

_He spat._

_"I prefer to call it 'Common Goddamn Sense.'"_

_"I done made my brags," Tobias said simply. "I do not have many talents, but the one I do have, the one talent that separates me from the herd. That talent has kept me alive well past the time I should have cashed in. What other fulfillment is there for a man on this earth then to pursue the perfection of their God-given talents."_

_"Well then either make your play or shut your mouth and walk out of here while you still can."_

_Tobias inhaled and exhaled loudly before he shot another glance at Ron. It was just about then a single rider dashed onto the main street in a cloud of dust. He came to sudden halt before the group._

_"Aww hell boss," the sweaty, dirty rider exclaimed. "There's a posse barreling down on the town. Might be fifteen, twenty men deep and they are coming for your hide."_

_"How close are they?" Tobias asked._

_"As close as my thumb is to my forefinger. We ought not be here when they are."_

_Through narrow eyes Tobias said, "I reckon I wouldn't be able to savor the moment of killing Mister Murdoch here with lawmen sending lead my way."_

_With a tense smile Tobias took one last look at Ron before approaching his horse and mounting it. He then tipped his hat to Murdoch and began to speak._

_Murdoch interrupted._

_"Don't tell me. 'You win this round Murdoch, but I'll be back tougher and faster' I've heard it all before son."_

_Tobias sneered. "Do not die on me old man, there will be another day. I will dance a fancy jig on your grave."_

_Murdoch tipped his hat in return._

_The young gunman eyeballed Murdoch and Ron for several seconds, thinking, with a somewhat bemused look upon his face. Tobias' smile was like the snarl of a wolf as he turned away. No one said uttered a word until the gang had completely pulled out of sight._

_"Friendly cuss wasn't he?" The Bard remarked._

_Trembling profusely Ron dropped to his knees and let out a sigh of relief. "Thank goodness, you scared him off Murdoch."_

_"I did?" Murdoch chortled to himself as he stared at Ron._

_"So!" Ron breathed. "I feel like pie."_

_Murdoch opened his mouth to say something but closed it again. Then a warm smile came to his face. _

_"Yeah, that sounds good."_

_With said Ron rushed past The Bard back into the Cafe. Murdoch and The Bard's eyes met._

_"You staring at me like I had feathers growing out my backside," Murdoch remarked._

_"Are you really aimin' to turn that little one into a mighty cold, cold, man, just like you?"_

_"That little one heard his father being shot down and had his mother and his sister killed. He is the remaining survivor of the complete slaughter of an entire town." Murdoch responded. "Before that boy is done he's gonna leave a bloody trail behind him. And I can't blame him, can you?"_

_"I suppose not," The Bard answered._

_"It's a terrible thing having to kill a man, terrible thing." Murdoch said with a shake with his head. "Just as terrible are those sleepless tortuous nights when you cannot do anything but focus on the needless violent death of someone you cared about. That's when the grief takes over, but it doesn't come alone, sometimes it brings with it a sense of duty. The sense that there's justice to be dispensed."_

_"Well," The Bard muttered as he cleared his throat. "However can the boy live with himself afterward, if he even lives?"_

_"Probably not."_

_"Can you live with yourself?"_

_Murdoch started up the stairs towards the Cafe. He slowly shook his head as he walked past The Bard. "Not one bit."_

XXXXX

Well, if that don't take the rag off the bush Tobias thought with a smile. Pouring himself a drink, he swallowed it down quickly and then pushed his stool away from the bar.

"On one hand," he began. "Being a curious person by nature I am fascinated by these turn of events. On the other hand...."

The bartender happened to be walking by and Tobias turned and swiftly rammed his fist into the man's belly doubling him over. Tobias rose from his chair and clobbered the man on the side of his jaw, sending him tumbling to the floor. Tobias reached down and hit him many times upon the face, right, left, right, the vicious blows rained down quickly. The bartender slumped down on the ground and did not move.

"Jesus Christ!" The Bard exclaimed looking down on the barkeep that was lying unconscious on the floor, his nose busted wide open and his lips pulped.

"Don't take on so. I could have shot him," Tobias said as he regained his composure through quick short breaths. "As I was saying....on the other hand I find myself filled with uncompromising rage."

Tobias returned to his seat with a sigh. "He must die...as soon as possible. However I have given my word that I would not be sidetracked by this...annoyance. So that puts me in a real bind, unless you can lend a hand."

"Me....lend a hand to you?" The Bard asked. "But I'm not a gunfighter."

"Oh you won't be doing any shooting. What I mentioned earlier, you'll help speed up the process."

Tobias reached into his vest and pulled a small black white photo from his pocket. He placed the photo on the bar. The Bard glanced at the photo and recognized it immediately.

"You want to know where I got that photo?"

"I suppose it was stolen from someone's house."

Tobias nodded slowly. "Don't worry; no one was hurt when it was stolen. And if it makes you feel better I would like nothing better than to forget the location of that house. Lending a hand would go a long way in helping me forget."

"I reckon that's a fair deal," The Bard quipped with the enthusiasm as of a man about to have his tooth pulled.

* * *

**One month later: Present day**

"So you kissed him and then he fell asleep?"

Eyebrows furrowed Kim glanced over at Monique. "No I believe I stated that _he _had kissed me."

"Same difference, hun," Monique replied.

"Frankly-," Kim replied even though she was momentarily flustered. "-I do not believe that to be the case."

"Is there a problem?"

"No there is no problem. It was a pleasant enough experience. However as I explained earlier he was not in the right state of mind. In fact it's just as likely he will not remember anything at all about what happened."

"You think he would forget the kiss?"

"I wouldn't be surprised."

"I suppose I can see how a woman would be upset if a man found her kiss forgettable."

Kim frowned. "Even if that were true and it isn't---"

Monique grinned. "Well then you'll have to make him remember... through another kiss or two."

Kim felt flames gather at her cheeks. "Surely this is not the appropriate time to discuss such matters."

"Ah don't be such a nun. If not now, then when?"

Kim was about to reply when a dusty pistol was shoved into her face. She glanced up the barrel of the weapon. "Perhaps Monique, when we are not being robbed?"

"Dang it! You hens haven't stopped clucking since we pulled this blasted stagecoach over. If you don't shut your mouths I might have to start getting mean."

Kim smiled brightly at the outlaw. "Please accept my apologies."

The Grey haired outlaw grumbled to himself before pulling away to join the two other members of his gang. The three outlaws then huddled over the luggage of the stagecoach passengers and began sifting through them. The passengers, all five of them, three women and two men, were seated on the ground lined up against the stage coach with their hands tied behind them.

"You think they'll let us live?" Monique whispered.

"I'm not sure. As far as I know some outlaws don't mind being identified, some do. I have been working on a plan in case of the latter."

"Well it better be a good plan and it better come quick," Monique gestured with her head to the youngest looking outlaw. As if on cue he briefly glanced over at them with a wolfish grin on his face.

"Because I see trouble in that man's eyes."

Kim's eyes narrowed as she studied the man. "Do you figure on him doing something...disreputable?"

"Disreputable, what a kind word for it" Monique scoffed. "Well its well known around these parts that transgressions against women require the penalty of hanging, or shooting....or being dragged to death, or being stoned to death, or being buried up to your chin in anthills...or being staked out naked in the plains under a harsh sun."

"However," she drew a breath just as the outlaw glanced their way again. "Despite knowing this, I do not believe our friend there will able to restrain himself."

A half smile came over Kim's face. "If this is true Monique, then you have opened my eyes to another opportunity. Of course it increases the likelihood of personal danger than my previous plan, but it lessens the risk to the other passengers."

"Huh," Monique said as she took note of Kim's smile. "You do love yourself some excitement."

"Show me a woman who doesn't, Monique," Kim said through a grin.

Monique suppressed a chuckle. "Just when I think I have figured out one side of you Miss Possible, another one pops up."

"Well I suppose it's time to make my move. Monique when the herd thins...you may find yourself with the opportunity to make good use of my bag, do you understand?"

Monique nodded and then Kim sprang to her. She took a few steps before purposefully stumbling forward. The heads of the three outlaws snapped towards her in unison.

"Excuse me gentleman? I do hate to disturb but..." Kim sheepishly crossed her legs together before glancing off into the woods. "I believe I require access to the privy."

"Privy?" said one of the outlaws.

"She needs an outhouse," the oldest looking of them said. "Listen Miss, you won't require the use of nothing 'less we say so---"

"Wait now, hold on." The youngest outlaw stated as he leered at Kim. "Can we call ourselves civilized men if we deprive the lady of such basic necessities? I'll take the lady out into the woods."

The other two outlaws stared at him then they turned to Kim.

"Can't you hold it in?" The oldest asked.

Kim shook her head and whimpered softly.

"Fine, we will wait for you to come back," the oldest sighed. "Take her, but don't do nothing I wouldn't."

"What would I do that you wouldn't?" The young outlaw sneered.

"Something that would get us hung or worse."

"I will keep that mind," The youngest glowered at his partners before beckoning Kim forward. "Move it, unless you want to do your business out here for everybody to see."

Kim started off into the woods and the outlaw walked two steps behind her. Once they were out of earshot, he leaned forward.

"You scream, little girlie," he hissed into her ear. Kim wrinkled her nose at his bad breath. "--And I'll hurt you something awful. You understand?"

Kim nodded as she deftly began to loosen the rope around her hands. They had been walking into the woods for about five minutes when Kim finally broke the silence.

"May I ask you a question?"

"I would prefer you keep your trap shut."

"Are you a gunslinger? You wear guns around your waist like a gunslinger."

There was a pause. "I am handy with a pistol but I don't claim to be a gunslinger. I ain't got a death wish like those crazy fools drawing and pulling every which way."

"Your partners, are any of them gunslingers?"

"Them? They couldn't hit snow on the ground during a blizzard!" The outlaw laughed. His laughter subsided when Kim spoke up again.

"Have you been to Denver? Are there many gunmen there? The stagecoach was on its way there before the interruption....."

"Alright, what is with all these dang-blasted questions!"

"My apologies, I am merely curious about gunslingers."

A grin came to the outlaw's face. "I see, you are one of those females who gets all hot and bothered around gunslingers and outlaws. I know your type very well."

It was Kim's moment to pause. She sighed. "Perhaps, around one certain…unique gunman and outlaw…..I am not entirely certain….yet."

The outlaw stopped. "Enough of this jawin'!"

Kim continued walking forward to the outlaw's irritation. He reached forward and clamped his right hand roughly on her shoulder.

"That's far enough," he growled.

"You are right," Kim said as her newly freed right hand shout up and snatched the outlaws paw off her shoulder.

Turning quickly she gave his wrist a sharp twist. The outlaw started to scream, and a fist exploded pain in his face. He slipped into a cloudy haze before his body hit the ground.

Back at the stagecoach, fifteen minutes had ticked away and the eldest outlaw was beginning to grow impatient.

"Eh let him have his fun," said the second outlaw.

"That fun is about the best way known to wind up on the wrong end of a rope....What's done is done, but if we stay out on this road any longer someone is liable to pass by."

The second outlaw considered this statement before nodding to himself. "I will go drag him out."

Monique watched as one more outlaw disappeared into the shadows of the forest. The remaining thief turned towards the hostages and she managed to lock eyes with him.

She stood up.

"Sir I would like to say something. If that is alright with you."

"If you have something to say, then say it."

She began to approach him slowly. "I am sorry sir but I do believe it is for the best that we speak privately."

He eyed her suspiciously.

"Fine then." He was on her in two quick strides. He leaned over, grabbed her by the back of the neck and pulled her face closer to his ear. "Whisper to me then."

"Well sir, if I can have your word that I will not be harmed. I can tell you were you can find plenty of money."

"What?"

Monique swallowed loudly and looked over to the pile of luggage that had been collected by the outlaws. "That pink bag there at the bottom of the pile is filled with money. The missus was planning on a new life in Denver, so she took everything she had from the bank and stuffed it in that bag."

The outlaw snorted. "That ain't no bargaining chip Missy. We were going to find the money anyway."

"Yes but, I do not figure on the missus coming back out of the forest. So you and I are the only ones who know the money is in the bag. That includes your partners. If anything were to happen to me....well, sometimes I say things when I start to panic."

The outlaw eyed her once again before pushing her away. Monique backed away as the outlaw paced back and forth. As expected though he made his way to the luggage pile and snatched up the pink bag.

He gave Monique a glare that said "keep your mouth shut," as he opened the bag for a peek inside. The mechanical click that came from the bag momentarily startled him. But not enough for him to avoid the tiny pellet that erupted from the bag and exploded against his face. The chili powder hit his eyes instantly. The outlaw reached for his eyes and screeched out from the pain. Monique sprinted towards him and introduced her foot to his private area. He crumpled to the floor at her feet.

"That sir, is for making me sit down in the dirt in this brand new dress."

"I'm sure you'll find better dresses in Denver, Monique."

Monique glanced up to see Kim stepping from behind the trees. With a pocket knife in hand she made a beeline for the now stunned hostages.

"I better. Hey where did you get the blade?" Monique asked as Kim cut the hands of the stage coach driver free.

"The second one had it stuffed in his boot." Kim said.

"What happened to him?" the driver asked as Kim moved down the line of hostages.

"He had an accident. Didn't watch where he was going and had the butt of a revolver hit him in the back of the head."

Massaging his sore wrists the driver chuckled to himself. "Did the first one have an accident too?"

"No, he got beaten up," Kim replied as she freed the last hostage. "Speaking of which I'm going to need your help to drag the bodies out and tie them up."

The driver glanced at Monique who shrugged happily.

"Yes ma'am," he said as he followed Kim back into forest. A moment later she glanced over her shoulders, "may I ask how close to Denver we are?"

"Well now that we're free. I reckon we should make it there before morning light," he answered.

Kim smiled brightly. "That is good. I am looking forward to my time there."

* * *

A/N

I know it probably wasn't enough to cover the year long wait. Still hopefully you enjoyed it. I think I'll do one more chapter for this before moving on to anything in this fandom.


	15. Outsider

A/N OK back, see I actually made through on a promise Yay! Two chapters in less than three months that's got to be a record (unfortunately) for this story. So I gotta thank you the patient reader for sticking around. But let's not dwell on my horrendous posting record let's get down to the good stuff (hopefully) the chapter at hand.

* * *

Henry Shores, honorary Deputy Sheriff of Denver County, Colorado, part-time Pinkerton agent, part time bounty hunter, full time self proclaimed detective, ruefully regarded the mountain of paperwork that had piled up on his desk. It wasn't the fact that there was a substantial stack on his desk that irritated him. It was the fact that half of this mountain of paperwork should have been filed and categorized by his brother yesterday. Henry sifted through the top of the pile; doing so he discovered a leaflet listing the more important state laws that would come into effect due to the Territory's impending statehood. He placed that to the side and created the beginnings of a second pile right beside the original, which would henceforth be named the "to read" pile. As he continued sorting through the first pile, things got fairly more interesting. Notices of county and town ordinances, newly drafted regulations regarding the carrying of firearms in the city, houses of ill repute, disorderly conduct and various other sinful offenses great and small. Beyond that, he found wanted dodgers and an apparently fresh telegram from the Pinkerton Detective Agency.

Now this was an unexpected surprise.

The telegram could only mean one of two things, either Allan Pinkerton was calling him to Chicago headquarters and he would finally be given a full time position. Or as they had done frequently in the past, the Agency was alerting him of "stories of interest" in his regional area. Henry could then either do something about it or do absolutely nothing, it wouldn't matter to them as it seemed like the Agency was doing its best to ignore him. Henry sighed heavily, slighted or not, he was still a man of justice. He picked the telegram up and devoured the contents.

"Good Heavens!" he shouted after reading it for the third time.

Half an hour later, Henry stepped out of his room, fresh smelling, in a clean blue suit, and with the Pinkerton telegram in his coat pockets. He marched down to the first floor of his home which also served as the front office of the family detective agency. A few feet from the base of the staircase he discovered his brother Melville, half naked, laying sprawled on the floor. Furious, Henry marched over to the nearest window and pulled aside the curtains. The sunlight beamed down upon Melville and roused him from his sleep.

"Couldn't even make it to the staircase eh? Out philandering again I am sure."

Melville blinked his eyes open. "I philander no more than the next man my dear brother."

"You know _brother_; there is a stack of papers in my room that bear witness to your neglect!" Henry proclaimed.

The younger brother placed his right hand in air. "I have a perfectly sensible reason for not getting to those papers."

"Which is?"

Melville let his arm drop. "I forgot."

Henry rubbed down the base of his forehead with his fingers. As he was gearing up to admonish Melville, his even younger brothers the twins Wendell and Wendelin bounded into the room from the kitchen.

"Good, you guys are finally awake," Wendell said.

Wendelin continued, "Alright now we can have breakfast."

Remembering his mission for the morning, Henry thrust a single finger in the air, "No time for breakfast trouble is afoot."

Melville sighed, "Trouble is always afoot."

"I am off!"

"He's off," Melville remarked.

"Stop mocking me!" Henry declared.

Melville shrugged from the floor. "Hey with our sister gone. Who else is going to do it?"

Henry deftly ran his fingers across his chin. "A fair point, we all have our roles to play in a team effort, and friendly teasing breed's familiarity.

Henry shook his head vigorously. "I shall pontificate on the role of humor in the family at a more convenient time. For now I work for justice."

With that said Henry stormed out of the house.

"How is he so energetic in the morning?" one of the twins muttered.

"And loud……so very loud" Melville grumbled.

When alone, Sheriff Thaddeus St. Claire would often stroke his sweeping dragoon mustache and admit to himself that he more than likely wasn't the best suited to be the sheriff of such a large community. He having done a halfway decent job of maintaining law and order in Denver was nothing less than a miracle. That he even had to enforce the law was a nuisance he could do without. It just so happened he was in the law business to make money. Still this city for all its warts and ugliness was his responsibility. For good or bad Denver had shown him just about everything a man would or wouldn't want to see.

However even for an experienced Western man like himself, every once in awhile something unusual would pop up in his town. The more recent example of this was the young lady sitting before him.

"You understand ma'am, I am just trying to get the full picture here."

Kim nodded, "Of course."

"First of all did you know who these men were?"

"Don't know, don't care," Kim answered simply. Then her eyes darted back and forth for a moment. "By that I mean I cannot honestly say I was aware of these men before their robbery attempt."

"They're wanted in Kansas, y'know." He gestured to one of the two nearby bulletin boards in the office, both of which were covered to the brim with leaflets and posters. "I got their picture right over there."

Kim gasped melodramatically. "Oh my stars and garters such devilish creatures! It is a relief to know they are now in your capable hands, behind bars."

"Yes ma'am they are safely behind bars" The sheriff nodded. Then he stared hard at the red head. "Thanks to....you?"

It was more of a question than a statement.

Kim smiled and placed her hand against her heart. "By the grace of good fortune."

"One the outlaws, his name being Sam Washington, Doctor sez you broke his jaw."

"Well," Kim said while clearing out her throat. "I can only imagine he had a weak jaw. Perhaps he was city born...from the east....Not a real western man such as yourself."

The sheriff nodded in acknowledgment of the compliment. "Perhaps."

Kim smiled brightly.

"My deputy also tells me you also managed to dent Mister Washington's revolver over a second outlaw's head."

She shrugged. "My father always said I was a lucky girl."

St. Claire remained silent as he continued to study Kim under his harsh gaze. Clearly uncomfortable she shifted once or twice in her seat.

"To be fair...." Kim paused. "...He had fairly slow reaction time."

St Claire grunted in response before leaning forward on his desk. He prepared his next line of questioning, most of which regarded the contraption in her purse. However, before any words could escape from his lips Henry Shore barged into the office, waving a piece of paper above his head.

"Aww hell," the sheriff muttered to himself upon setting eyes upon the detective.

"Trouble is afoot," Henry declared.

With a few long strides he crossed the room in moments, and then he slapped the letter upon the sheriff's desk. He glanced at Kim uttered a polite, "ma'am," and then turned his attention back to the sheriff.

"You are crazy as a lizard to be charging into a lawman's office. That's a good way to get yourself shot!" St. Claire exclaimed.

"Trouble is---"

"I heard you the first time, dangit! What do you want?"

Sheriff St. Claire rued the day when he took on Henry Shore as a part time deputy. The young man was brave, intelligent, he had a connection to the Pinkerton's and he was more enthusiastic about law and order then any of the other deputies. St Claire had been hoping to pass off most of the work to Henry, but that was before he had discovered that the man was about as annoying as a person could get. For one thing he wasn't satisfied with the basic parameters of the job. At one point he attempted to enlist the sheriff and the other deputies in digging wells for old widows miles from town. In addition to that travesty, no western man ever needed to talk as much as Henry Shore did. If you ever offered him an ear he would likely talk it clear off your head. Worst of all he hardly ever drank, never cussed, and he didn't chase women. Now the sheriff didn't mind having respectable men around, the problem was when they tried to get everyone else to be respectable with them. It was like being around a lifetime bible thumper except without the hellfire and scripture.

"Sheriff, there is no time for polite pleasantries, you must read this quickly. It is of utmost importance!" He slid the telegram to St Clair.

Henry slid the letter across the desk to the Sheriff. With great reluctance the lawman studied the letter, occasionally his mouth would silently sound out a word as he tried to figure it out. After a moment or two St. Claire scratched at his cheek and said. "Darn it you know I ain't much of one for reading. Just tell me what it says!"

Henry began pacing dramatically around the room. "Dodge City, Kansas, Garden City, Kansas, Lawrence, Kansas, Nevadaville, Colorado, Central City, Colorado. What do all these towns have in common?"

"How the hell should I know?" The Sheriff muttered irritably.

Henry took a deep breath. "According to my Pinkerton sources, in the past month there has been an eyebrow rising trend of violent outbursts in those aforementioned towns."

"Violent outbursts?"

"Duels, between gunmen! All of these towns faced a spontaneous outburst of face to face shootouts of unprecedented levels."

"Unprecedented levels? Even for Dodge? They have shootouts every day!"

"If the letter says unprecedented, it must be unprecedented. Pinkertons are not known to exaggerate," Henry stated.

"That's all well and good but that sounds like a problem for someone else. Just the way I like it."

Henry stopped his rapid pacing and turned to give the sheriff a deadly serious stare. "I am afraid it is your problem sir. In each town the upswings of violence all started after the arrival and departure of one man."

Henry paused for the apparent dramatic effect.

"The legendary troubadour known as The Bard!" he proclaimed.

"The Bard? What about him?"

"The telegram mentions that he's been going around these towns touting the skills of apparently the new fastest gun in the west."

"Who?"

"That I do not know. What I do know is, if you follow the order of towns, it's quite likely that The Bard will be walking into our fair city either today or tomorrow!"

The sheriff groaned. Henry Shore's presence was bad enough without him bringing in bad news.

In the Sheriff's eyes there were three base types of bad men in the west. The foolish types seeking adventure, the true predators with nary a twinge of conscience, and gunfighters out to prove their skill. The gunfighter in his eyes would have to be the craziest of the bunch. It was impossible to try and understand them, because regular men couldn't begin to comprehend what they do and why they do it. Though you couldn't paint over them all with a simple brush; he had run into noble gunmen, mean gunmen, highly educated gunmen and plain stupid ones. Old, young, white, black, they came in all varieties. However, no matter their differences they gave little to no pause to the ludicrous thought of standing in the middle of the street without cover and firing at another man.

"Sheriff, there are a number of known gunfighters in our community. With the end of the week coming up you can bet there will be more entering town soon enough. If you let The Bard enter town there will undoubtedly be a commotion."

"Who am I the King of Denver? He ain't wanted in this town, and if a man shows up and behaves himself there's nothing I can do."

"Sir with all due respect: are you deaf? I just told you each town The Bard has visited has exploded in violence!"

"Now hold on, violence happens in this city every day. Thankfully most of it happens away from the respectable citizens."

Denver like many other large communities in the West had its fair share of issues with the separation of classes. Railroad tracks known locally as the "darklines" separated the rich, the tee-totaling, the law abiding and the "civilized" on the north from the wild, woolly, uncouth, anything-goes residents of the south side of town. St. Claire and his other deputies had done their very best to contain the undesirables to their own part of town.

"No one can keep gunfighters from curling each others' toes if they really want too. They will shoot each other and then move on. It'll take some extra work but I'm sure we can keep it from spilling north of the tracks."

With his arms out wide and with an incredulous look upon his face Henry said, "Is that all your are planning to do? There will be men dying in the street!"

"And we'll clean it up as best we could," St Claire glared at Henry. "There have been gunfighters in this town for as long as I can recall. This is the first I am hearing of you having a problem with it. Too busy digging wells for old widow women I reckon."

Chastised, Henry stepped away from the sheriff's desk with slumped shoulders. The sheriff reached under his desk and brought out a half empty bottle of whiskey. He was in the process of hauling the bottle to his mouth when his eyes fell once again on the red head. She smiled nonchalantly at him, completely ignorant to the fact that she was being privy to what should have been classified information. Lost in the whirlwind of annoyance that was Henry Shore the sheriff had forgotten she was still in the room.

St Claire regarded her with politeness. "With such other pressing issues at hand and with the culprits already behind bars I don't see any reason to continue my investigation."

Kim quickly stood up. "Well thank you for your hospitality sheriff, and for keeping the peace."

He nodded. "Now as a courtesy, and in the interest of public safety I would be obliged if you could keep any of the information shared between--" he gestured to Henry, "-Mr. Shore and I close to the vest. If you understand what I mean"

"Oh of course," Kim nodded. "If it's in the interest of public safety I will be sure to keep a tight lid on the matter."

After exchanging pleasant smiles with the two men Kim bid them both farewells. She stepped out of the office ruminating on the latest turn of events. It hadn't even been much more than an hour since her arrival and already there were three serious factors that would likely dictate how she spent her remaining time in Denver. The first thing that she had learned was that there were indeed gunfighters in the city. Secondly she had learned of an impending crisis involving the gunfighters that may occur, lastly but certainly not least by far, she believed that she had caught a glimpse of a poster with the name "Scarecrow" scrawled across the top on the wanted board.

Stepping out further into the street Kim paused to evaluate the implications of each discovery.

Monique having stayed outside with their luggage noted her friend's quiet departure from the sheriff's office. "I take it things didn't go well in there?"

Partially lost in thought Kim answered, "It started off quite annoying, however by the end it got…very interesting."

"Interesting, what does that mean?"

As Kim was about to reply a wagon came to a sharp halt in the street right before them. The driver jumped down from his seat just as a man in a fancy suit and stuffed collar disembarked from inside the wagon. Before Kim or Monique could register what was going on, the driver began to swiftly load their luggage into the carriage.

"Load them up quickly now, quickly!" exclaimed the man in the fancy suit as Kim and Monique exchanged bewildered glances.

"Pardon me sir, but I do believe your man there is stealing our luggage," Kim stated.

"You are Miss Kimberly Possible I presume? The woman who foiled the attempted robbery of a stage coach last night."

Kim nodded, "I am Kimberly Possible."

"Very good. Now Miss Possible, I must inquire on whether you have made the necessary accommodations for spending the night in this fair city."

Kim gestured down the street, "Um, there is a boarding house down--"

The man snorted. "Remove that hovel from your memory, Miss Possible. You are now a patron of the Northern Lights Grand Hotel for as long as you desire, courtesy of the owner Mister Jonathan Whitemore. I am here as his representative."

"Whitemore?" Kim sounded out the familiar name.

"There was a man named Whitemore with us on the stage coach," Monique remarked. "Don't you remember he introduced himself and his lady friend when we picked them up in Yuma?"

"I do recall now."

The representative grinned from ear to ear. "That would be Mister Whitmore's youngest son Charles Whitemore. And if his descriptions of those bandits are even half the truth Charles likely owes you his life."

"So this is a reward for stopping the robbery," Kim concluded.

"One we are hoping you will graciously accept. This is the least a man of Mister Whitemore's stature could do. It is the finest hotel in the territory; you will find none better in the territory."

Kim remained silent as she mulled the invitation over.

"Mister Whitemore also owns the highest class ladies boutique in town. So in addition to the room and board you can also have free access to a change of clothes."

A muffled but distinct squeal of delight escaped from Monique.

By then the driver had finished loading the luggage into the wagon.

"I am sure the hotel is dreadfully more pleasant than a boardinghouse. However at the risk of sounding ungrateful, I must say I cannot accept the invitation without my friend here," Kim stated.

"Hey now, don't give up a chance at luxury for my sake," Monique remarked.

"Sorry, I won't budge on this matter." Kim turned to the representative. "Monique did her part in saving Mister Whitemore's son as well."

Smiling politely Monique waved at Whitemore's representative. He studied Monique for a long moment before pulling the door of the wagon open. "Of course, I am sure Mister Whitemore will approve."

Gleefully the two friends hopped into the wagon. The representative entered right after them, he barked to the driver and moments later they whipping down the street. Kim stared out the window watching the city fly by. More than once she caught sight of a group of women in fanciful dresses darting in and out various stores of interest. This was obviously the north side of Denver, the "respectable" part of town. It offered a safe, happy if not a tad predictable life for a woman. Indeed it was interesting enough, Kim thought. But could she truly say she visited Denver without knowing what both sides of the city had to offer?

You did not need much powers of observation to notice that Henry had returned home with a very surly disposition. There wasn't much ambiguity in him rushing up into his room and slamming the door shut without uttering a word to his brothers. Though Melville would never admit it to anyone but himself, he knew that after the death of their parents and their sister's departure years later, Henry's annoyingly cheerful optimism was what kept the remaining family members together. Which is the exact reason why, there was a definite threshold of "enjoying himself at his brothers' expense" that Melville simply did not cross. Truly he appreciated the burdens of responsibility that his brother took on for the family. So doing the minimum amount of work to keep Henry somewhat satisfied was the least Melville could do to contribute to the family well being.

He poked his head through the door of his brother's room. "Hey I have that report on Lipsky that you wanted."

Henry lay unmoving on his bed. His eyes were up at the ceiling.

"The one you asked about a few weeks ago?"

Silence.

"So I will just put it in the file."

Awkward silence.

"Brother?"

"I am pontificating."

Henry had all the right to pontificate in his own room. However when their sister had left home Henry had pontificated in his room alone for two weeks straight before snapping out of it.

"Pontificating on what?"

"I have failed Melville; I have failed in upholding my pledge towards justice."

_"Oh boy"_, Melville thought to himself. The last thing Henry had openly admitted to having failed at was keeping the family together.

"What happened?"

"Gunfighters brother, gunfighters happened. Shootouts are usually filed as cases of self defense; and because of this I have overlooked the presence of these crimes in our fair city. Thus I have allowed a number of the good citizens to live in a state of constant danger."

Henry had the tendency to not notice that Denver was far from a "fair" city and he also didn't realize that shootouts would probably have happened whether he was aware of them or not. Henry flattered himself greatly by believing he had "allowed" the "good" citizens to do anything. Still Henry enjoyed his crusade and Melville would find no enjoyment in trying to take that away from him.

"So now that you have failed, are you going to quit?"

Henry turned his heads towards his younger brother. "What?"

"Now that you have allowed Denver to become a cesspool of violence and sin, no one would blame you if you quit and allowed things to take their natural course."

Henry bolted upright. "Never, I must come up with a plan to rectify the situation at hand! Justice and peace must be restored to Denver, the shining beacon of the West!"

Melville smiled to himself. Henry had transited back from gloom to his traditionally annoying self righteous self.

And that is the way it should be.

Melville pulled his head back through the door. "Well don't pontificate too hard, you may pull a muscle or two."

Henry at that point was already gathering papers at his desk. "Your concern brother while fraught with mockery is duly noted."

Crisis adverted Melville marched contently to his room. There he slipped into a sleek purple suit and plucked a pink envelope out of his dresser before stuffing it into his pocket. All quiet on the home front he stepped outside and started towards the south side of the city.

XXXXXXXXX

It was much later in the afternoon when Melville found himself in front of StrangeFellows, which was part dance hall and part saloon. The fact that it was occasionally frequented by some of the roughest elements of the city meant that it was not what Melville would consider a local hotspot for the average man. Melville had never stepped foot in the StrangeFellow for anything other than aiding his brother in an investigation.

However there was a first time for everything.

Melville pulled out the pink envelope and drew in the hint of lavender that it released into the open air. He fished the letter from his secret admirer out and re-read it. He had discovered the envelope after returning from a long night out of what his brother had labeled philandering. It had been slipped under the door of their home and apparently the rest of his family was none the wiser. The secret admirer had invited Melville to meet her at the saloon before its peak working hours. Obviously it was a letter from one the dance girls, who had grown to admire Melville from afar. The poor girl couldn't bring up the courage to approach him face to face.

Melville re-read the letter again. StrangeFellows was also known to have some of the prettiest and "reckless" saloon gals and dancing girls as well. Head held high Melville marched into the saloon. It was fairly empty at this time of day. There was only one person sitting at an empty booth to the left nursing his drink and flipping cards. There was no band on stage in the back of the room and a single barkeep was wiping down glasses behind the bar to the right. He didn't see any women around but Melville remained optimistic. As instructed by the letter he found the empty booth behind the first wooden pillar in the building. Tapping his fingers against a wooden table Melville awaited his admirer.

"Hello there cowboy," someone tittered behind him.

He ran his hands through his hair before turning. "Hello ma'am...You!"

Grinning broadly Shego sauntered over and plopped herself on the opposite side of the booth.

"Yeah me, I can't believe you fell for it."

"You…letter...but...How dare you!" Melville sputtered.

"Ah don't take on so. It was only a joke," Shego shrugged.

"You fooled me!"

She sighed. "Is that all you are going to say to your long lost sister?"

"OK, how about this, you are under arrest!"

Shego stared at Melville for a moment, and then she began laughing. The more she laughed the madder Melville got.

"Hey, I'm serious I can bring you to the sheriff and...."

Shego howled as she took off her hat, she then wiped her eyes with the back of her hand. Her laughter eventually faded into a chuckle. "I needed that, thanks for brightening my day little brother."

"Alright, I won't stay here and be laughed at!"

Melville made a move to leave, but Shego placed her hand upon his shoulder and shoved him back down to his chair.

"Hold on, hold on....Just wait a minute…..I need your help. Actually, I need Henry's help. But seeing how listening to Henry lecture is akin to getting kicked in the mouth by a mule; it just so happens I need your help."

"Why should any of us help you after you abandoned the family... right after you robbed one of the city's banks... right after you kicked a deputy in the groin."

"Listen to me," Shego interrupted. "I need your help; it's probably a matter of life and death. My life or death."

"Probably?"

"Maybe, I don't know for sure" Shego said as she glanced into Melville's eyes. "Which is why I need your help brother."

After a long moment of contemplation, Melville vigorously wiped his hands up and down his face. "Fine, but just promise me that you won't do anything illegal while you're in town."

Shego leaned back in her seat and sighed heavily, "I can't do that."

"Ugh," was his reply as he closed his eyes, waiting. "Why not?"

"I can't make a promise I broke three times this morning."

Melville groaned. "OK, how about we rein in the illegal activities."

Shego extended out her hand. "Pardon me. Perhaps I have not introduced myself; I am the member of your family who left home to become an outlaw."

Melville stiffly stood up.

"How about this?" Shego asked. "I promise not to burn the detective agency down while you guys are out to lunch."

"Is that a threat?" Melville asked.

"That's a compromise of good faith. You know how I feel about that house."

He glared at his sister; she glared at him with a cheeky smile.

"Like I always used to say Melville, third time is the charm."

A crooked smile came to Shego's when her brother let out a heavy sigh.

"Alright, since it's a matter of life and death, what is it that I can help you with?"

She shook her head. "Not now, but I will be in touch. You can say I have some business in town, so I'll be around for awhile."

With a soft chuckle Melville stood up. "You have not changed big sister. In one way I am disappointed, in another way I am glad."

"Pleasure doing business with you brother," Shego called out as he made his way for the exit. "Tell the twins I said hello!"

"Ha," Melville said without turning around.

They both knew if Henry even got wind of her being back in town he would do anything in his power to drag her back home...or to jail. It all depended on how righteous he was feeling at the time. While stepping through the door of StrangeFellows Melville wondered how he would help his sister, without his brother being aware of it. He was still lost in thought when he bumped into a woman on the boardwalk.

"Pardon me I..."

He took a step back and looked over the stunning redhead in a bright dress with a stylish hat and gloves to accessorize.

"No, pardon me," she said as she brushed past him.

He watched as she walked away.

"Hold on...did you take a wrong turn somewhere? Might you be possible looking for you way back north?"

She turned to him. "Why would you say that?"

Melville shrugged as he glanced around the neighborhood. "This is the south side of the city ma'am. The boutiques are up north; down here well….there is not much here but uncouth individuals."

Kim smiled good-naturedly. "Thank you for your concern but I do believe I am right where I want to be."

Melville shrugged, "Fair enough, good day to you ma'am." Turning away he walked off in the opposite direction.

XXXXXXXXXXXXX

Kim considered the fact that she was overdressed for the situation. This was not entirely her fault however; Monique had wanted them to take advantage of the boutique after they had purchased Ron's medicine. At first Kim had wanted to get some rest back at the hotel before she went off exploring, but she could not overcome Monique's insistence. Once inside the boutique though, Kim had her eyes opened to Monique's wisdom. What would it have hurt for her to exchange her dusty clothes for something fresh? A new dress and a few accessories later, Kim dropped Monique off at the hotel.

After a few basic inquires from the locals about where gunfighters spent their time, Kim found herself walking through the doors of the StrangeFellows saloon.

Her first reaction was that the saloon smelled of stale odors, and some not so stale orders that made her nose wrinkle. Kim tried not to breathe deep as she moved deeper into StrangeFellows. Heading towards the bar she regarded a few questionable stains on the plank floor. A sharp laugh interrupted her from identifying the mystery pink-ish stains. She looked down the bar to see the bartender pouring a woman a drink. The woman smirked at Kim, who became immediately aware that there was quite a contrast between her dress and the other woman's trail clothes.

"The working girls coming in right off the farm these days, huh Horace?" Shego snorted.

The barkeep didn't reply instead he moved away and approached Kim.

"Are you lost?" he asked her.

"No," Kim stated. "Why do people keep asking me that?"

"Well I am sorry to say women ain't allowed in here without an escort."

Kim leaned onto the bar and pointed at Shego.

"That's not a woman Miss. That one has been a jaguar for as long as I have known her."

Kim and Horace heard Shego mutter "Funny stuff" right before a tiny dagger embedded itself in the wooden bar, inches from Kim's elbows and Horace's resting fingers.

Startled, Kim backed away from the bar and glared at Shego.

"Keep them jokes coming Horace," Shego warning before returning to her drink.

Having been threatened by worse Horace ignored her again and kept his attention on Kim.

"Ma'am the owner of this particular saloon does not allow women of your--" he looked Kim over. "--Refined sensibilities to enter here unescorted. It's for your own good and ours. Last thing we need is for the respectable folk to get riled up and try to shut us down again...."

"Riled up over what?"

"Any misfortune that would befall a… proper lady such as yourself."

"I…"

"You are probably more suited to the cafes up north."

"One moment please..."

"The tracks aren't too far from here. For a price we can have somebody escort you back up..."

"I am looking for any information I can get on an outlaw, who may have visited this city not too long ago," Kim blurted out.

Shego laughed out loud as Horace brought his hand to his forehead.

"Not this old story again," Horace muttered.

"And here I thought school-marms were supposed to be the living embodiment of moral and ethical virtue," Shego laughed.

Kim's head swiveled from Shego to Horace. "I am not a--"

"Ma'am by any chance are you with child?"

"I beg your pardon!" Kim exclaimed indignantly. "I am not!"

"She begs your pardon Horace," Shego chuckled as she drained her glass.

"If I had a nickel every time…." Horace sighed.

Shego stood up and started slowly towards Kim. "I see it now. You never met a man like this outlaw. He wasn't cultured or educated. He wasn't rich. But there was something about him, some quality you just couldn't define, and that is what made him irresistible. He walked around town like he was different. Like the rest if the world wasn't as unique as he was. When you were around him all you wanted to do was touch him."

Kim felt flames filling up her cheeks.

Shego wrapped her arms around herself. "Oh my, this behavior is downright wicked. If my pappy learned what we were doing why I'd be dismissed without hesitation. Oh my I never kissed a man before... OK, maybe just this once."

A cruel smirk came to Shego's face as she looked Kim through mocking eyes. "What happened did he promise he'd marry you? Did you wake up in the shed all by your lonesome?"

Red faced with embarrassment Kim glowered at the female bandit.

"I believe there has been a misunderstanding," Kim managed to say with miraculous restraint. "I am simply looking for information."

"Here's all you need to understand Miss." Horace added. "Even if I had information I wouldn't give it to you for your own good. Forget about this outlaw and stick to your own folk. This ain't your world."

Shego plucked her dagger from the bar; she waved the blade inches from Kim's face. "That's right princess, this ain't your world. The weak lamb gets devoured by the lion in this here jungle. So skedaddle back over the tracks to mama and papa before you really get hurt."

The tip of the dagger brushed against Kim's nose and only the a few brief seconds afterward Kim's right hand snapped up and grabbed Shego's wrist.

Spooked, Shego attempted to pull her hand away but Kim held it in place. She added a bit of pressure and the sharp pain forced Shego to drop her weapon.

"I would advise you to buy a new blade. That one was dull; I doubt it would cut through hot butter."

Shego grunted as she attempted to pull away, Kim released her hand letting the older woman stumble backwards.

"I don't appreciate your insinuations Miss. I think you should take them back," Kim stated through narrow eyes.

"Take them back...?" A white hot anger flashed through Shego's body. "Why you arrogant little...."

Kim stood tensely in front of Shego, awaiting the outlaw's first aggressive move. Shego threw a sharp right, Kim moved her head ever so slightly and the punch whistled past her. Shego's eyes narrowed, either the red head was lucky or she was facing someone who knew something about fighting. Her suspicions were confirmed when she barely managed to dodge Kim's gloved fist from smacking into her mouth.

Shego backed away and Kim did the same. The two women adjusted their stances. They started each other down once again. Suddenly a large slab of muscle stepped in between them.

"Come on now don't step in between a cat fight, Moose," Horace whined.

"Boss says the red head has got to go." The massive man named Moose announced.

"_Boss?"_

Kim scanned the area until her eyes fell upon the only other person left in the saloon. In a shadowy booth across the room a lone man flipped cards nonchalantly in an apparent game of solitaire.

Moose turned to Kim with a stone faced expression. "You can't get hurt in here. You will bring trouble. You must leave."

Kim glared at Shego before turning to Horace. She had questions for the barkeep, or maybe even his boss. Questions they could reasonably answer, considering their employment in a place with a reputation like StrangeFellows.

Questions that would possibly arise suspicion if she brought them to the sheriff.

Horace would know something about gunfighters and the outlaw world in general. But more importantly he may have known why Scarecrow was up on St Claire's board.

"I apologize for the inconvenience. I will be leaving now."

Shego sidled up to the bar. "Watch your back princess."

Kim offered her one last scathing look before making her way out of the saloon.

By late evening, even though the sun had gone down, the city was still baking in an unusually sweltering heat. This type of weather didn't go a long way in dispersing the collective lethargy that seemed to have been gripping the citizens for most of the day. Horses dozed at hitch rails, dogs lay asleep on the boardwalk. The train chugged slowly eastward spewing great columns of smoke into the air. The streets were relatively quiet.

The same could not be said for the StrangeFellows saloon when "The Stranger" proudly pushed through the doors.

Kim was immediately assaulted by a whirlwind of sights and sounds. The dance floor which occupied most of the middle of the room was lit up as bright as the sun. Dozens of couples swirled in rhythm to the music. The walls of the building shook to the frantic pounding of boots and shoes. Men at the bar to the right of the room let out Comanche war cries in between whooping and hollering. Each man seemed to be trying to outdo the other in wild antics. The lights on the dance floor did not extend to the booths along the left side of the room. In the dim lighting, shadowy silhouettes sat awfully close hand in hand. The platform at the back of the room featured a band that was playing so loud the music attacked Kim's ears. The piano player pounded the keys and the fiddler slashed viciously at the strings. And there were girls everywhere, chatting, dancing, waiting to be asked. Girls in blue dresses, girls in red, shapely girls, heavy set girls, ample bosoms, those less so, blonds, brunettes...girls…girls…girls.

The place was packed to the rafters. It was bedlam.

"Land sakes," Kim breathed as took a few minutes to take in the sight of it all.

A familiar slab of muscle slid up behind her. Moose unfolded his brawny arms and fixed his beady eyes on Kim's face. Then in a gravelly voice he said. "You are not welcome here."

"Pardon?"

For a moment she wondered if the big man had seen through her disguise. But figuring that the towering mass of muscle was all brawn and no brain, Kim concluded that to have been impossible.

"You are a nobody, I won't have a problem tossing you out."

"I don't like your tone," Kim said.

"No offense mister, but the boss doesn't want you here. The mask on your face makes you look like a Nancy. You look weak. There are lots of men who prey on weakness here. So you have to go."

Kim blinked. "Well now I think your boss just insulted me."

The big man shrugged. Then he started toward Kim. She put a hand up to his chest.

"Simmer down big fellow; I am not looking to create a scene. And there will definitely be a scene if you take another step towards me. How about I talk to the man in charge and make my case. If he still says no, I'll leave peacefully and you can go back to scaring bully goats. That's fair ain't it?"

Moose's face scrunched up in concentration as he considered her statement. "Fair" he nodded before pointing out the booth closest to the door.

"His name is Carter Degrazia. He is the one in black. Watch what you say, or you won't get past Lem and Bub."

Nodding politely Kim pushed through the crowd.

_"I look weak eh?" _Kim thought to herself. _"I'll show them weak."_

Carter Degrazia's booth featured a small table with two other men, one to his right and one to his left.

"Are you Carter Degrazia, the owner of this establishment?"

Degrazia was a nicely dressed individual in a black suit and a bowler. He offered a Kim a look of deliberate indifference.

"Co-owner actually."

"I just want to say if you are going to insult me sir, the least you could do is insult me to my face instead of through the big lummox over there."

The man on the right sneered. "Hey now do you know who you are talking too?"

"I am talking to the man who owes me an apology," Kim said.

"You want an apology?" the man on the left asked. "He must be awful dumb, huh, Lem?"

Lem laughed. "Maybe we ought to learn him something, Bub. Seeing he's so dumb."

Grinning now, he looked straight into the Kim's eyes. "Maybe I ought to cut his ears off and give 'em to him for a present. That might teach him a lesson right Bub?"

_"Can't back down here."_

Kim snorted. "If there is a lesson for me to learn tonight, I know for sure you two hombres won't be the ones dishin' it out."

"Who the hell do you think you is?" Bub shouted.

"I reckon I am someone who is rapidly losing patience with a couple of pushy loudmouths."

Bub frowned at the insult while Lem attempted to discreetly pull a blade from his pocket. It wasn't nearly as discreet as he had imagined because when he came up to cut at her face, Kim swatted the blade away with a sharp upward swing. The blade landed harmlessly on the floor, Kim's fist however landed roughly on the base of Lem's jaw.

Bub was slow to react. When he made an attempt to grab for his gun, Kim kicked the front leg of his chair out from beneath him. She grabbed him by the back of his head and adding to his falling momentum she sent crashing through the wooden table.

She sighed, "Next time grown folk are talking, you boys hush up you hear?"

Kim and Carter locked eyes as the two men lay groaning on the ground at his feet. There was a moment of silence before Carter nodded. He snapped his fingers and Moose suddenly materialized before them, he grabbed both men on the ground by a foot each and began dragging them away. Carter snapped his fingers again and in a matter of moments another man delivered a wooden table and placed it before him.

Degrazia placed his hands on the new table.

"You have me at a disadvantage. You are...."

"Just looking to cool my heels in this saloon," Kim said.

"Fair enough, but look around first. There are killers, thieves and Texans among others in here. You can throw a mean punch but by the looks of the softness in your hands and cheeks you are probably an Easterner who thinks he can pass off as a bad man. I was doing you a favor before, as much as I would like to take your money. Besides, having that thickheaded sheriff sniffing around here...again…is bad for business."

Kim shrugged, "I am obliged for your concern but I'll take my chances."

She glanced around. Not much had changed in the atmosphere of the room; it was like no one had even noticed there had just been a fight. Either most of everyone else had ignored it or they were so used to fights breaking out that it no longer got in the way of dancing and drinking. Both options unnerved Kim a bit.

Kim had taken a few steps away from Degrazia's table when a pair of giggling girls stepped before her. Although their perfume got to Kim before they did. It filled the air around them.

"Howdy tough guy," the tallest said in a Southern accent. "I'm Margaret and this here is Nicole. Would you care to dance? Only ten cents a step."

"No thanks ma'am," Kim coughed politely.

"Please," Margaret coaxed with a wink and a chuckle.

"I am not much of a dancer."

"You're not very friendly either." Margaret grabbed Kim by the hand and began to drag her to the bright glare of dance floor. "Come on you'll have fun I promise."

Kim had no desire to dance or to hurt feelings. She pretended to be scanning the crowd. "Sorry, but I am actually looking for someone."

"Who?"

"Um another girl..?

"Really? What's her name?"

"I uh...um….Bonnie...?"

Margaret frowned. "There's no one who works here by that name."

"Whoops there she is. Save me that dance for later," Kim slipped her hands from Margret's grasp and weaved in and out through the crowd.

After putting some distance between her and the girls, Kim found herself near the bar. Spying Horace behind the counter she quickly made her way towards him. She was sorting the list of questions she would ask when a hand on her shoulder interrupted her thoughts.

"Quickest fight I have seen in awhile."

Kim turned towards a young man wearing an unusually large wide brimmed hat, and a red bandanna wrapped around his neck.

"Ah thanks," she replied.

"Let me buy you a drink," the young man announced.

"Why?" Kim inquired.

"I ran afoul of those obnoxious fellas earlier. If you didn't put a whooping on them I would have eventually."

"Ah, I see."

The young man signaled for Horace and ordered his best bottle of Mononghala whiskey. The bartender poured drinks for them both. Resting her elbow awkwardly on the bar, Kim accepted the glass. Taking a signal sip she let the whiskey burn a path down her throat to her stomach.

"Ah, that's...satisfactory." she lied.

The young man extended his hand. "The name's Seth Beechum."

Kim shook his hand. "Well my name is Nobody."

Seth laughed. "Ah, you are one of them types that likes having a mysterious name. Well I have run across much more mysterious names in my time."

"Really?"

"Yep for example, Mysterious Red Beam Beauregard from Louisiana, that name beats yours by a mile."

Kim smiled. "I can't say I disagree with that."

Seth tipped the contents of his glass into his mouth. He let out a satisfied sigh before tipping his hat to Kim, "well Nobody, thanks for the show."

The young outlaw dropped his glass onto the bar. He was in the process of turning away, when he suddenly stiffened up in place.

"Wait just a minute is that....?" he muttered. "Well I'll be it is..."

Kim stared curiously at him as she discreetly sniffed the contents of her shot glass, which resulted in an involuntary grimace. Seth's stare went past Kim and across the room, a streak of wonder twinkled in the outlaw's eyes. Kim attempted to follow his gaze.

"What, did another fight break look?"

An incredulous look came upon Seth's face. He pointed, "Don't you see who just walked in yonder. That's The Bard!"

Kim glanced at the entrance as the man known throughout the West as The Bard strolled confidently into the room. She recognized that the atmosphere had shifted subtly. There was much less dancing and boozing going on. Many men looked The Bard's way and nodded their head in a greeting. Some looked him over once or twice before going on with their business.

"That guy with the guitar is The Bard?"

So taken aback by her apparent ignorance Seth plopped himself on a bar stool.

"So what is his story?" Kim inquired.

Seth shook his head. "It just so happens, that The Bard knows everything about anything worth hearing west of the Mississippi. He's akin to a walking museum of history or something. He's a legend."

"Is that right?" Kim muttered to herself.

"By God it is you," Carter Degrazia said as stepped forward and shook The Bard's hand, "I thought Moose was seeing things."

"Been a long time Carter," The Bard grinned.

"What brings you here to our fair saloon, Bard?"

"It's a long road to Denver by horse and even a longer road without a drop to drink," The Bard said. "I am just here to wet my whistle before I get off to bed. Is that all right with you?"

"Sure suits me," Carter replied as he led The Bard to the bar. "Let me get you a drink on the house."

"Does The Bard know much about gun-fighters?" Kim asked.

"Didn't I just say he knows something about everything? 'Course he knows about gunfighters. If I know about gunfighters then he sure as hell does."

Kim's right eyebrow arched up into her forehead. "Any gunfighters here tonight?"

Seth nodded. "There are a handful of gunfighters on hand tonight."

"Really?"

Seth's head bobbed up and down proudly. "I am a genuine outlaw, and even though I may not be a gun-handler myself, in my circles you run into them every now and then. See that grizzled old hombre nursing a drink alone in the corner that is Zachary "damned" Kellery. He's in his late sixties at the very least. The dude standing at the very end of the bar is Lawrence "Sunset" Holt, he made his reputation in Montana some say he is a back-shooter. The fella dancing with two ladies there is "King" Ronnie Pearson, he claims he is descended from English royalty."

"Hey Bard, I read a book that said Larry Morgan was raised by Apaches is that true?" A saloon patron suddenly shouted from across the room.

The Bard sipped his drink before laughing out loud. "Don't believe everything you read, according to those books he killed a hundred braves at the tender age of eight."

A laugh ran through the crowd.

"Nah, Morgan wasn't raised by Apaches" The Bard announced. "But John McBride was."

A collective "OOOOOOO," came from those paying attention.

Carter slapped The Bard on the back. "Hey you got a song or story for us. I can get the stage ready for you."

"Hate to disappoint you folks but I happen to be dog tired from the ride over. However I have been working hard on something real big."

"Big you say?"

"Very big Carter, let me ask you this. What do the names Jess Adams, Paul "Dancer" Hughes, Slim Jeeter, Timothy Murdoch, and Tobias Coover have in common?"

"They're all dead!" someone blurted out.

Once again laughter came from the crowd.

"Definitely they are deceased. But also these five men at one point in their lives were considered the fastest gun alive. They were the last five to have almost a unanimous consensus on that, if I recall correctly."

Carter nodded. "That's a natural fact."

The Bard finished his drink and sighed happily. "Well if my latest tale proves true, there might be a sixth name to add to that list."

The band stopped playing, all conversation and dancing in the room ceased, and suddenly all eyes turned toward The Bard.

"Gawd almighty, history is about to be made right here," Seth exclaimed.

"What?" This time it was Kim's turn to be taken aback.

"Fastest in the West huh? Who is it?" Carter asked.

The Bard shook his head. "Sorry friend, but now is not the time. I am plumb tired and my voice is hoarse. And I think I feel a fever coming on. You know if I can't give a good show, then there will be no show. But soon folks, real soon, and I'll tell it right here in this saloon."

The crowd erupted into a loud whoop.

"Well now I've had my drink. I reckon it's time to get some rest. Night yall."

The Bard started off towards the entrance when a man in a black suit, with a dark shirt opened at the collar and two guns at his waist seemed to emerge from the shadows of the room. He intercepted The Bard's path.

"Bard," he said. "You're looking well."

"As do you, Trace," The Bard replied.

"Who is that?" Kim whispered.

Keeping his eyes on the two men Seth said, "That there is Trace Turner...They say he's killed more men than you can count but the particulars aren't well known and no one is fool enough to ask for details."

"I'd appreciate it Bard, if you kept my name in consideration," Trace Turner said.

The Bard smiled. "I'll do that."

Trace stepped aside and The Bard brushed past him and out the door. The saloon erupted with conversation, while the music simultaneously returned, followed soon by bursts of dancing.

Trace Turner melded back into the shadows.

"My goodness it's going to be quite exciting around these parts for the next few days," Seth said enthusiastically.

"What do you mean?"

"What do I mean? Didn't you see Trace there? The gunfighters are for sure going to be vying for The Bard's attention! Being known as the fastest gun is akin to being a living legend."

"But why?"

"Why what?"

"Why would anyone want that title? Why would anyone want to be a gunfighter?"

"For lots of reasons!" Seth exclaimed. "For no reason," he then added. tilting his head and shifting his shoulders. "Gunfighting don't need a purpose; the duel is its own purpose. You don't ask why the sun shines or why rocks are rocks, do you?"

"You go to hell," a man standing near the booths suddenly shouted.

"I'll take you there with me pard," yelled a man standing next to him.

The two men stepped away from the booths to face each other, their hands hovering inches over their guns. People on the dance floor began to scatter.

"You been making brags and yapping in my ear long enough. I am damned tired of it! Now pull iron or shut the hell up!" The first man shouted out.

"No, not in here, take it outside," Carter Degrazia exclaimed.

"Get ready to hit the floor," Seth whispered.

"Wait!" Kim cried. "We just can't let them..."

Both men grabbed for their guns. The second fighter was quicker. He fired once hitting the first man in the chest. The fatally wounded man grabbed his chest for a few seconds before slumping to the ground. He died without uttering another sound.

"It was self defense! And I warned him about his mouth," the second man crowed.

Carter groaned. He snapped his fingers, and the body of the dead man was dragged out of the saloon. Horace tossed some sawdust on the blood stains on the floor. The festivities resumed moments later.

Frozen in place Kim looked over to Seth, who simply shrugged.

"Told ya so," he smiled. "And it's only going to get bigger from here."

"So how manly were you?" Monique asked when Kim returned to their hotel room. "Did you spit on the floor and scratch yourself inappropriately?"

"I believe I played the role well enough," Kim said distractedly. She then hurried over to the luggage currently on her bed.

"You should consider work as a thespian. You have a natural gift."

Monique's compliment fell on deaf ears, as Kim rifled quickly through her belongings. As a precautionary measure she had carried along some of The Stranger's gear to Denver, but not enough for her to be entirely comfortable. She foresaw a lot of improvising in her future.

"Did you learn anything interesting?" Monique said after nothing her friend's anxiety.

"I am not sure," Kim answered.

"You're not sure?"

"Monique I know we're here for an important reason. But we may be in Denver longer than we had anticipated."

* * *

A/N Oh yeah laying down the tracks for something here, it'll be big, it'll be fun, and it may or may not contain a few more familiar KP faces. So OK, questions for you dear reader. Shego and Kim's meeting, good, bad, swell? Did ya like it? Team Go whuddya think? Yay, nay? Tell me what ya think!!!!! Feedback is good, so read and review lol.


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